Teach Me How to Cry
by Paradigm of Writing
Summary: She was a simple girl, he was a simple boy. When the two met, a spark was ignited that they'd never felt before. But, as the two got to know each other, their fantasies began to crumble. What was once a dream soon became a full fledged reality, and that was when the crying started. The tears never stopped coming, and that was just the beginning.
1. Chapter 1: Futile Intervention

**Hello everyone, it's Paradigm of Writing here with a brand new story, one that has been up on my profile for not too long, but its birth and creation has begun! I introduce to you Teach Me How to Cry, a short romance/drama of about ten chapters with the wonderful oh so wonderful characters Zelda, Link, Peach, Palutena, Rosalina, Snake, Robin(F), Marth, Samus and Lucina. Yes, it's only ten chapters. Multi, sure, but not ridiculous in length. I won't be doing a 20 chapter plus story for Smash in awhile, those require some work and the time on my hands is too little for that, sorry. But, I have wonderful hopes for this story and hope you do too. This will be, and I mean it, the last SSB multi-chaptered story I am posting till Creationists comes around next year. I'm gunning up until July but my yearn may grow and it'll come sooner, but I'm staying with July. I'll be responding to reviews for this piece again, so review and you'll get my reply! Now, let's get this started! Enjoy Chapter 1: Futile Intervention.**

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Rosalina Adeline could not believe she was on _that_ side of town again. You know, the side that no one ever mentioned. The run down shacks, the barking of dogs that accompanied abused screams of children... that one. Her hair was too clean to be tampered with by _city air_ , lord forbid someone from the other area lest touch her with their filthy hands. But business was business, and the matter she needed to attend to was one of importance. She prayed silently to herself.

The sun illuminated her precious sunbeam hair, decorative glass eyes smiling with happiness, however glowing behind with incriminating disgust. It _just_ had to be the Miranda family... of course God spared Miss Adeline no expense. She could imagine him sitting there in heaven writing out the to-do list of the day, and sitting there in all of its cockish glory was _Have Rosalina Adeline go visit the Miranda's._ Yep, she could envision it.

The Miranda's. An interesting bunch, she deemed quietly to herself while crossing under a dilapidated bridge. The grey light peeking in through the clouds sent a hazy wave of smoke and fog to bequeath the ground with their own problems. Rosalina Adeline hated fog, she hated going under dilapidated bridges... it seemed that she disliked a lot of things, many idiosyncrasies that did not affect life whatsoever if they were removed from the world.

However, there was one thing she did love. She loved teaching. Teaching meant the world to her. Especially psychology, although that job seemed to be hard to get around to doing because no one genuinely appreciated the study. Rosalina longed to undergo the discipline it took to become a psychologist, though it was nothing but a mere dream that seemed faker than a third party winning the presidency. Another supplement to back up her own crazy desires and wants was to maybe scratch the surface towards the Miranda's.

No one could ever really pinpoint the problem, but the sense of insanity was there. Rosalina knew that personally, she teaches one of them herself. The insanity didn't exude from her student, though, oh no. That critical characteristic wafted from the mother, the idiot who was stupid enough to get banged up in ways more than one, to drive the man from her life, to have a miscarriage, and then to raise a kid without a true understanding of the world. Rosalina wrinkled her nose in an unpalatable manner.

" _I must help them, I must help her, but I just do not know how..._ " she thought to herself.

Stories were just that, only stories. But, there was some truth behind it, and Rosalina knew that full and well. She shook her head in dismissal at the sidewalk, iron rich sympathy leeching from her blood, she could not help but feel sorry. " _Poor Zelda Miranda... a girl who doesn't know her place in the world. And with a freak for a mother to boot... such a challenge to live at home I wonder_."

Zelda Miranda was a mystery to many, and an open book to few. Actually, Zelda Miranda never opened up to _anyone_ , no one was able to make her pry. Rosalina guessed as much. When she had a mother as the one talked about in town, then the resentment was alright and well placed. Who had a green-haired individual for a mother who wore ridiculous Greek robes and carried an awkward caduceus as a walking stick even though she didn't need it? Zelda Miranda had that mother, and there was where Rosalina Adeline placed her pity.

She stopped walking, the wannabe psychologist. A simple manila folder was tucked under her right arm, and so she stared. Rosalina's heels hesitated over the next chunk of sidewalk, she had managed to make it all the way to their house without even vomiting once. " _Oh dear_ ," Rosalina clucked to herself. " _I must get a handle on these emotions, mustn't I?"_

It was a simple one story house, painted a violent and stunning amaranthine, dabbled with bubbles of sea green foam. The front door was quaint, homey and friendly as a grinning bumblebee waved one of many hands as a welcoming gesture into the residency. Numerous multi-colored pinwheels stuck up like stalagmites in the emerald grass that glistened with fresh dew drops from a morning rain. Rosalina frowned, sniffing the air. Smoke, thick and sulfuric. She wanted to gag, her knees clanging together weakly for a moment before creaking up the three rickety wooden steps. And oh dear lord in heaven, was that a bullet hole splintered in the doorknob?

Rosalina cleared her throat, and placed one gentle hand against the door. Sighing, knowing there was no turning back from this point, given she had walked all this way, she knocked. Her mustering of courage was met with silence. Fucking cold stone, dead silence. Wonderful. The teacher scoffed, before giving a gentle smile hoping that perhaps no one was home. An eye, she couldn't figure which one, landed on a shiny doorbell, one covered in alternating layers of dust and cobwebs. Huffing the ancient sand away from the ringer, she pressed the pallid circle. A sharp, echoing bray echoed throughout the house, causing Rosalina to jump. " _What the_ -" What kind of doorbell simulated the braying of a dying dog? How sick must someone have been?

A shift of movement happened inside the house, one full of shattering objects and crashing down furniture. Colorful words erupted from whomever was home, causing Rosalina to be colored purple. Goodness in heaven, this house just had tricks and gags at every corner, didn't it? After a moment of recollection from the other side of the door, it opened. And... didn't it cause Rosalina Inn Adeline to make a double-check.

Holy shit. She was _like_ everyone said. Standing in front of her was Palutena Miranda, the head of the Miranda family. Zelda's mother was real. Rosalina thought it was just a myth. The green hair, one of putrid, sickening radioactive green, gleaming white Greek robes down to the sandaled feet. Thank goodness, though, that the doctorial staff was missing from her grasp.

Rosalina straightened her dress, shocked to have the live gossip of town be legitimately right there. "Oh, I must excuse myself. Good afternoon," she said, smiling. "You must be Zelda's mother!"

Palutena looked out from the doorframe, stunning viridescent eyes giving her pallor complexion a ghastly, eerie shine. "Yes."

"I'm Miss Adeline. Rosalina Adeline." the teacher of the two outstretched her hand.

The other furrowed her eyebrows together, and dear God in heaven those were sea green too. "Rosalina?"

"Adeline," Rosalina finished. "I teach Zelda at school."

Palutena's expression was one worthy of a picture, her eyebrows rising, eyes widening, smile stretching- the Cheshire Cat had found his equal. "Oh! You're Zelda's teacher!"

"One of them, yes Mrs. Miranda. I'm delighted to meet you at last. May I come in?"

"Come in? Oh, yes you may! Please come in!" Palutena ushered in the school teacher with one quick push from the behind, emitting an exaggerated _OOMPF_ from the person in question. Rosalina crashed into a dresser, muttering a not too friendly obscenity as the wooden corner pressed roughly into her sternum. The teacher gave an overt look of the room, her analytical eyes sharp and disparaging.

Old furniture, resembling those of the 60's cluttered up the main living room, one no larger than half the size of her classroom. A illustrious counter bolted into the wall lied on the far right, overlooking a box television. Rosalina hadn't seen one of those since the early 2000's. Why it was in the Miranda's living room was another question. A couch was positioned awkwardly in the middle of the room, centered so it was facing a window and not the TV screen like most families. She frowned, another peculiar detail to note, she supposed. A steaming tea kettle was placed on a dainty silver platter, two cute and girly tea cups right next to it, delicately painted pink roses and amaranthine ribbons decorating the porcelain. A dress, one of comfortable size, was spread out over a chair. Two needles were stabbed near the cut-off by the legs, a bundle of inviting rosy and cerulean yarn clumped into a pile on top of the dress. Palutena waddled over to her seat, and sat down on the couch by the tea,

"A beautiful living room you have, I must say." Rosalina cleared her throat, knocking out the lump under her jaw.

Palutena didn't meet her eyes, instead staring at the platter of tea. "So you teach my precious Zelda? That's nice," she blinked, looking up dazedly at Rosalina, noticing the thick mahogany drawl coat draped over her arms. "Oh dear Miss Adeline, I apologize. Your coat, let me take it and I'll-"

Rosalina held a hand up, although she didn't mean it in an offensive manner. "No matter, don't bother yourself with this old coat. If you wouldn't mind, I'll just toss it over a chair..."

"Use the one with the dress." Palutena instructed, picking at her fingernails.

"Thank you."

"You may sit in as well, if you wish. Or, if you'd prefer sitting next to me on the sofa... it is an antique."

The school teacher blinked, unsure of where the head of the Miranda family was going to direct the conversation next. "Why, that'd be just dandy!" Her words tasted like vinegar.

Palutena clapped her hands together in glee. "Oh, Miss Adeline, I am so glad you came! I don't..." She titled her head towards the tea tray. "Normally people don't come over. I had made tea and everything, for Zelda should be home soon. I anticipated someone's arrival, I could feel it in me, dear Rosalina."

Rosalina wryly smiled, opting to sit next to the lady of wild statements and insane gestures. A fitting, yet evil nickname for a lady of her innocence, but Rosalina didn't care one bit. "That's extremely nice for you to offer-"

Palutena poured some piping hot tea from the kettle into a cup, cutting her off immediately with a cooing of her voice, and a slight jump. "Yes, it's oh so nice. I make tea every day at around two, for I know Zelda will come home soon and we'll share it. However... I drink it by myself all the time," There was a pause, as if the mother couldn't remember what came next. She smiled. "Oh Zel, bless her, lord knows where she goes I tell you, but she's home before dinner and that's all that matters to me. I make the extra cup just in case, but I can't let good tea get cold and go to no use... oh we cannot have that. It's here in case I get a visitor," she drawled on and on, dropping cube of sugar after cube of sugar into her tea. Rosalina's eyes bulged at the amount of sweetener being dissolved into Palutena's drink. Palutena took a lasting sip. "I'm always looking forward to tea time. Would you care to have milk and sugar in yours?"

Rosalina's left eye started twitching, damn all of her antibiotics and stress relievers. Seeing as her host might've given her own body a ticket to cardiac arrest, the school teacher smoothed her dress calmly. "A little bit of milk. My tea is normally bitter and nasty when I have it."

"Why would drink the tea if you say it is nasty? There's no enjoyment in that, is there?"

"Well-"

"That sounds like a complete waste. That's a problem we need to fix, dear Rosa. I suggest you get your psychological thinking figured out before you soon come to hate all drinks."

"I beg your pardon?" Rosalina furrowed her eyebrows.

Palutena didn't bother making sense. The green-haired mother leaned against the cushions. "Isn't it a beautiful, oh perfect and lovely day for tea? It is! So, Miss Adeline, did you walk through the park on the way here?"

"No, I did not, I'm afraid," Palutena handed the tea over to Rosalina, who accepted it gingerly as if the cup was radioactive. The teacher sipped it innocuously, wincing at the lack of sugar. She set the cup down gently, continuing her harmless banter. "This tea is just fantastic, Mrs. Miranda. I appreciate your hospitality."

"So the tea is all right?"

"Why, it's grand! I simply must confess so," Rosalina lied. She cleared her throat. "And, even though this is so nice, Palutena, I need to tell you the real reason why I came here. The tea is lovely, and you are a great woman and all, but-"

"You- you didn't come to see me?" Palutena asked, the woman's voice rich with hurt.

"Oh, no Mrs. Miranda, I truthfully did! But, it's because I needed to discuss something. I have an important matter on my hands that simply must be addressed. Zelda-"

Palutena jolted away from Rosalina in alarm, her eyes flittering around the room as if to look for the nearest exit. "She is a good girl, isn't she?"

"Oh, Mrs. Miranda, I am not here to confer with you on Zelda's grades or her behavior in school in terms of disciplinary action, madam, but on the note she perhaps might not be happy." Rosalina bit her lip.

"Miss Adeline! You are very much mistaken! Zelda is very happy! Her _and_ I are both happy, dear Rosa," Palutena corrected hurriedly, patting Rosalina on the arm. She gestured to the dress. "I make Zel the most gorgeous outfits to wear at school. A dress for every week of the year, and sometimes she must recycle them. They are made of the finest silk, Chinese in fact when I think hard enough. I want my daughter to look better than anyone at that school, for looks make up who you are, do they not? Zelda does look wonderful in them, right? In all of those pretty dresses?"

"I'm sure you _make_ the dresses, Mrs. Miranda. I've seen plenty of your work, Zelda wears them everyday, even during the winter when it is not so much appropriate to wear such clothing. The boys make a tassel out of her, however. Not that she minds, I say, but it is odd how she's indifferent towards it. In fact, I love your dresses so much that one of my friends got married awhile back wearing one you made," Rosalina babbled. " _Good, I'm practicing perfect damage control._ "

Palutena looked down at her lap. "Oh..."

Rosalina licked her lips. "I think though that you must know this. Zelda arrives to school in those beautiful dresses, but she changes into plain and pallid shirts or blouses after lunch."

"Damn her. Damn her to hell," Palutena hissed to herself, then aloud at Rosalina, "I always tell her to wear the dresses. All day, she promises me, she swears an oath to it. I'm telling you Miss Adeline, you have _the wrong girlie_ in mind, darling. My Zelda would never!"

"But, Mrs. Miranda, should you be more present..."

"How does Zelda look when she gets to school?"

"Why, she's lovely. A little dove bird. I've told her that on occasion. But, that's not the issue- a matter concerning dresses. Oh, no, Palutena, I'm worried about what goes on inside of your daughter."

Palutena blinked. "When you came through, even though you've mentioned that you did not go through the park, did you see the cherry blossom tress in bloom?"

"I- I believe they may be. Spring after all comes forth with life and all that jazz, but I didn't come to speak about-"

Palutena rested her cheek on the armrest. "I simply must walk to the park one day and view the trees. The sun must be shining, that fluorescent light must be ascending down to the gale- oh you can see the glow now, can you not? I must admit, I get guiltily pleasured when watching the sunrise, I swear that there is so much enigmatic workings in that simple movement. The world looked beautiful. I had an empty street, slate and concrete being my neighboring friends for the early hours. Just the sun and the road. Nearing noon, however, I think was the time. No shadows either. Picturesque I tell you, Miss Adeline. Our street is quiet and lovely, no?"

"Why, it is a lovely, and quiet street, yes Palutena. But-" Rosalina agreed, hoping to transition to Zelda once more.

"It isn't always quiet, and that's when umbrage falls over this house," Palutena said darkly. "People knock on the door. They resort to ringing that dammed bell fifty times before I yell at them to fucking leave, and it's glorious to have anger leave my lips. It's like a leech sucking your blood, but its the fire instead, from burning rage. Usually the people at the door are men. Zelda makes them leave, sometimes with the broom. But, when it's the mailman, or the local bookstore clerk, she lets them in. I think she likes their company. One time we had an AC consultant come in, could you imagine? He wanted to fix it. I laughed with mirth in his face. I don't use the AC..."

"I suppose Zelda might, however, Mrs. Miranda. She's a teenage girl. They all have their preferences." Rosalina smiled.

"No... not much. I must simply ask you, for Zelda has a cellphone and all, did you once call her?"

"Yes."

"Was it for a specific reason? Did she do something wrong? Or... was it just for company's sake? Comfort? Fake conformity? But, whatever the reason may be, it's because you like her?" Palutena absentmindedly brushed her hair.

"Yes, I called her. I called many of my students, normally after grades go out and things like that. I call people because I know I can help them." Rosalina explained.

"You do help her," Palutena nodded. "She gets amazing grades."

"Oh, yes, Zelda is very intelligent. She's smart, oh so smart, why she can rival any of the teachers at school in intelligence. However, emotionally-"

Palutena's eyes sharpened, her body stiffening. The tea cup sloshed, a spill of murky brown staining the cream carpet. "Zelda is never emotional."

"No, you must be mistaken-"

"Never! We- we have pleasant times together, though. There is after all, only two of us here. We talk, we play games, we laugh. I help her with the schoolwork she has, well, most of it. She sometimes knits for me while I'm napping over my insufferable headaches. But, no, she's not emotional. She'll have stories of the nice things in her life, however. I hope you talk to her about that stuff."

"I do. A majority of it is me trying to envelop a skill or talent set from your daughter, should I blunt," Rosalina scratched her neck, seeing that Palutena's confused gaze stimulated some rash or disease of the skin. "I tried bringing up the subject of choir, it's a marvelous extra-curricular activity to get involved in, Mrs. Miranda. Zelda says she can't sing. She's protested that'll she deny her ability till the day she is buried six feet under. I see through her. It's an evasion. From some truth."

"She sings for me," Palutena sniffed. "Lullabies. Or the songs on the radio, but those are pieces before your time."

"If her voice is being used, and as beautiful as you allude it to be, then Zelda needs to put that gift to use. She _needs_ to sing, especially at school. The doors that could open up for her, I am telling you-"

"She _can_ sing at school!" Palutena declared hotly.

"But, that's the issue Mrs. Miranda. Zelda doesn't. It's like she's afraid. Your daughter never participates, every opportunity is met with a meek no. That's not ordinary Palutena, it's most certainly not orthodox. Unorthodox, I'm telling you!" Rosalina argued.

Palutena dismissed the altercation, adding more tea to Rosalina's already full cup. "I want to talk about those cherry trees instead. They were planted long ago, oh dear me, when my hair used to be a _natural_ color... those were the days. I prayed they'd be in full bloom before I became an adult. And right they were."

Rosalina set the manila folder by her side to her lap. "Have you- how should I put this, Mrs. Miranda... always lived here in town?"

"Peculiar question, but yes. Always, for the longest time. My parents have passed on, but I still have my birth certificate somewhere in the back of the house. I've lived here my whole life. I'm forty-five, and there's nowhere else in the world I'd rather live in. No place I'd rather be, Miss Adeline, and that's a cold hearted fact," A pause, as Palutena glanced at the window. "Shame. It's beginning to cloud over."

Rosalina rose from her seat, seeing that this was going to get nowhere. "Zelda may be home soon, Mrs. Miranda. I can explain very quickly, as to not confuse you, on how we can help her." As she spoke, Rosalina reached to put her cup and saucer down, so she could've went around the chair to grab her coat. Palutena blinked, thinking the tea was being offered to her instead, so she reached for it. A mere pause caused the Earth to stand still as a heavy blanket of awkwardness clouded the living room. Rosalina closed her eyes, accepting the gesture of hospitality, and handed Palutena the tea cup. Palutena accepted it, before staring blankly at the saucers. She began to tremble, coping with the two tea cups was not on her agenda, not at all. Palutena rose, Rosalina's careful eye following her.

"Why do you want to help my daughter? She's a perfectly normal, fine human being Miss Adeline. Least she doesn't judge!"

That took the teacher aback by five or six steps, almost keelhauling over the seat with the dress. "Oh, but Mrs. Miranda..." Rosalina stuttered. "You needn't be frightened."

"I'm not." Palutena objected hotly.

"The reason I stated helping her, is because of a school event coming up. We have a play performed every year by the upcoming senior class. This year we are performing Beauty and the Beast, and I'd love if Zelda could audition for the role of Belle. She'd be just perfect as it, I hope you can imagine that in your head. It's a pity, she said you wouldn't let her even consider coming in for the part. Now, if her grades are what concerns you about the whole ordeal, I can assure you-"

"I won't allow her? I won't-but I didn't know. She didn't tell me that there was a senior class play."

Rosalina raised a blonde eyebrow. "She didn't?" It came as a surprise to her.

"No," Palutena admitted, feeling almost embarrassed. "Zelda loves to act, and it warms my heart thinking about it, Miss Adeline. When she was a little girl, and when my mind wasn't muddled with the global things we adults bore ourselves with, we played. Made up stories, made up romances dealing with death and desire, love filled up by lusting actions with gruesome tragedy at the end. Oh, it was fun. And we used dolls. Perhaps I'm too grown to still have them, but they were mine as a little girl. They're my dolls. We played house with them, although it was skewed as if simply reflected our life now. She's declined my offer to play again, although I plead with her to allow fantasy land to work once more. I make beautiful clothes because of it, those lovely silk dresses. Why, I'll make the costumes for this Beauty and the Beast!"

"So... in a roundabout way, Zelda can audition for the play?"

"I'll make all the costumes, all of them" Palutena declared. "The girl who plays Belle, won't they need many dresses? There's the daisy one as the main, but I can always work something out... correct?"

"Yes-"

Palutena sat on the couch again. "More tea?"

"Why that'd be lovely," Rosalina lied again through her teeth. "But, Mrs. Miranda, would it be too much to ask of you? Just encourage Zelda to muster up the valor and bravery to audition, that's all. It would be an important step for her to, I hope you realize. In English, I see Zelda pick up the most amazing pieces of literature. The Lord of the Rings come to mind, and sometimes a Lewis C. Carroll book if Middle-Earth bores her. It's rather exquisite to watch, I say. It'd be a huge success for her, a boost in confidence."

"And how is that, Rose?"

"I'm convinced that if Zelda will gain confidence, she'll begin to face life for what it is. That's the big problem I have with her. She doesn't face life like she should. She constantly runs. She will not make friends if she runs."

Palutena frowned. "Zel has many friends."

"It's the contraire, Mrs. Miranda. Zelda has no friends. Zero. Not one. She is terribly lonely."

Palutena stood as if she had the force of the American army behind her. "How can she be lonely," she shrieked. "Everyone likes her! I'm the mother of Zelda Miranda, Miss Rosalina Adeline, not you. I birthed her, I've raised her. I know these things, you don't! You're her teacher, that's all. I teach my daughter more things than you'll ever dream of!"

She stormed off, causing Rosalina to turn around in a dizzy state. "Oh, Mrs. Miranda, please!"

The school teacher ran off after the beleaguered mother, knowing what a goose chase it'll soon become. Rosalina didn't have to look far, as Palutena was standing in the doorway of the home, opening the door for a new visitor. Rosalina's heart skipped a beat. _Zelda_.

The teenager, soon to eighteen, stepped into the house. "I heard voices, and my name."

"Why, yes," Palutena said. "We were talking about you."

"We, mother?" Zelda questioned.

Rosalina waved half-heartedly, taking the deep breath before the plunge. "Yes, Zelda. We were talking about you."

 _Here we go_.

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 **BAM! There we are everyone, Teach Me How to Cry, Chapter One: Futile Intervention. Chapter Two will be up before too long, but it may be next week. I hope this story looks promising, as I've been wishing to do an idea like this for awhile. The second chapter will delve more into Zelda, as she's arrived and is the reasoning behind this chapter. How was this one, in your opinion? Is Palutena crazy, is Rosalina uncaring or just an idiot? Let me know! Please review, as I'll be commenting to them in my beginning authors notes! Don't write essays unless you want essay style responses. Love you all, and thanks for reading! Chapter Two, Good and Gorgeous shall be upon you all soon. Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	2. Chapter 2: Stoic Zelda

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with Chapter Two of Teach Me How to Cry. So, wow, you guys have all really blown up with the reviews, the favorites, and the follows. Haven't had such good traffic since I don't know when from a story on its first day. My heart warmed up, knowing that there was little going on in the fandom when I first posted. I am more than excited to get this story off. Originally I had this chapter melded in with the first, but it would've been outrageously long. And, I know that when I do 6k chapters or more, my brain is exhausted. There will be only one, maybe two or three UBER chapters to come, but excited nonetheless. When I type these replies, I apologize if I miss yours from the time I post. All replies will be going at the end of the chapter, in my closing Author's Note. I'm gonna try it out for awhile, see how it goes.**

 **Alrighty guys, lets do this! Enjoy Chapter 2: Stoic Zelda.**

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For all the strange occurrences in her life, having her English teacher in the living room holding a dainty cup of tea was not one of them. In fact, if she were to dwell on it, Zelda Miranda hardly ever had odd events happen in her day-to-day routine. She was normal, bland, tasteless, and she accepted that. The brewing clouds above the house left a restless quiet to stir on her skin, one that held precarious breaths that threatened to spill over.

Zelda shouldered her knapsack, the sharp spine of some random textbook digging to her spine. Her auburn hair was tied in a simple braid, resting soundlessly on her shoulder. Light, decorative makeup dabbled her cheeks, drowned in suave violet eye shadow which highlighted her vicious diamond eyes, piercing bulbs that radiated warmth whether or not the rest of her body did. Yet, her English teacher was in their house. She couldn't get her mind off of that, even with Palutena's hands bouncing off her left arm.

"Oh, Zelda," Palutena greeted, throwing her arms around her daughter. Zelda kissed her mother, a small flash of surprise and hurt shining in her eyes. "I'm so glad you're home, sweetheart. I was waiting for you. _We_ were waiting for you, actually, but you know me and my tea hours. Must be done quick, quick I say."

"Mother?" Zelda furrowed her eyebrows together, genuinely confused. _We_? Who was we? She wasn't waiting for herself, that was impossible. Had to be another boy, a silly idiot who thought that he'd have a gander or chance to date her. She didn't date. Hell, she didn't even emote. Dating was fools gold, it made an April Fool's joke deserve standing ovations.

"How was school?"

"Fine," she murmured. All Zelda wanted to do was go to sleep, her government homework weighed heavily on her mind. "I'm rather tired, mother if you'd let me-"

"I almost forgot! Forgive me darling," Palutena cooed, ruffling her daughter's hair. "I mentioned the word we, and confusion speckled your face faster than the time you got chicken pox. There's a visitor in the living room, someone who is upmost happy to see you. Concerning is the matter, for which why she is here, for you see Zelda-"

"Visitor?" Zelda's face was blank. That word didn't come out of her mother's throat often, let alone her own.

"Why, yes," Palutena said, very pleased with herself for somesuch reason other than that she knew her daughter was listening. "Came for tea. She tells me that's not the reason why, but I can see through her with the eyes of a lion, and she came for my tea. I am told it's infamously good. We were both in the living room, come now dearie."

The eccentric mother grabbed her daughter by the hand, pulling the latter with such strength that it surprised Zelda so much that she dropped her knapsack. Something crunched as the bag fell, and she winced. It didn't sound good. Palutena looked back, airily laughing. Mistakes happen, this household was full of them. Rosalina sat back in her spot, elegantly poised, eager and ready to have a delightful conversation with the Miranda child. As Zelda and Palutena emerged from the hall, the school teacher set down her tea cup, not knowing that her face was in a twisted scowl still overcome by the bitterness.

"Hello there, Zelda." Rosalina smiled, nodding her head towards the person in greeting. All Zelda could do was stare back, blinking every 6.7 seconds as all humans did. Even the friendliest hellos of all only elicited a blinking response, one that secretly burned Rosalina Inn Adeline to the core.

Palutena clapped her hands together. "It's your teacher! Isn't that exciting?"

"Joyful," Zelda replied, though she couldn't meet her mother's gaze. Looking at her teacher, the girl could only stare. "How are you, Miss Adeline?"

"Fine, thank you. I suppose I could explain what I'm doing over on this part of town, if it troubles you so deeply. It was just such a great day for a walk, before the storm rolled in. Tender sunbeams tickled my skin, warm pulses threaded my back, and I had the odd yearning for tea. Knowing from the others in town, the few teachers who've stopped by before, well they told me that the tea is just tantalizing over here, and I simply said to myself that I had to stop by. It _is_ our job to introduce ourselves to the parents, after all."

Amid the long banter, Palutena frowned. "Other teachers? I haven't had any teachers stop by."

"We've been having tea, as two ladies with nothing but the problems of the world to discuss between us." Rosalina continued, not catching her host's slight puzzled expression.

At the mentioning of tea, Palutena squealed. "Yes, oh I am forgetting everything! Yes, Zelda, Miss Adeline and I have been having tea."

No response. All Zelda did was place herself contently in the chair still holding Rosalina's coat, and the unfinished dress. Wincing from the blunt force of one of the knitting needles, it caused her to look over and see the article of clothing. "So, it seems like you've sewn something nice today, mother?"

"You'd be correct in that assumption, dear. It's not ready, but will soon," the matriarch of the house sighed. "When it is complete, it'll be the most beautiful dress in all the world. Even the first lady is going to want this, Zelda."

"When you are finished, may I see it?" Although she hated to admit it, Zelda Miranda loved when her mother dabbled in the arts. Her sewing was second to none, as it was all she did during the day, every single day unless it meant a rouge tea party or unannounced gentleman at the door with a limp.

"Why, most certainly! It'll be yours, like always."

"My mother sews," Zelda explained. "She makes beautiful things. She's terribly clever."

" _And that's the part that worries me,_ " Rosalina thought darkly to herself. Smiling wryly, the teacher gave a reassuring rub on the girl's back. "I know she is, dear."

"She always shows me them when I get home. Normally they are gorgeous, but if the medicine has run out, there are grotesque creations within them that leave me shell shocked. And then, once all pleasantries have had the chance to beg, we chat over quaint tea. Quite enjoyable, I must say." Zelda looked for her cup, wishing to lavish in secrecy the sweet sugar and cream combination.

Palutena paused from her sewing. "But, Zel-"

"My mother puts out an extra cup-that's for me. I, I don't know where it is. Mother?"

Rosalina blushed. "Oh, terribly sorry Zelda. I must be using it, your mother told me that sometimes the tea runs cold and she uses both. Not wanting to have it go to no use, she gave it to me."

"That's not it either," Palutena disagreed. "It's because Zelda-"

"May I please have some tea, mother? Is it too much of a bother for you to get me a cup?" Zelda asked politely, her voice a soft mix between a whimper and a whisper.

Static filled the head of the Miranda's home for a moment, before nodding sullenly. "Of course, sweetheart." Standing up, Palutena tiptoed from the living room, disappearing into the kitchen.

That left Zelda and Rosalina alone, in the living room together. Zelda rubbed her arm anxiously, making sure her face was void of emotion. She never had a conversation alone with a teacher before, lest alone in her house for one thing. Rosalina decided to bite first, seeing as the talking would have had a stone wall should no one initiate the speaking. After a slight hesitation, the teacher was ready to go into a point of no return. "Zelda-"

"I had no idea you were coming in to see my mother."

"She's very, very nice, you know." Rosalina admitted.

"Did I do anything wrong? Have I said something that upset you? Was my essay on Mark Twain awful? Was there plagiarism in it, because if there was I promise you it was a mistake!" Zelda blurted, honestly afraid of the responses she may have received.

"No, honey, you're alright. I have nothing to be mad with you about. You have done nothing wrong at school."

"But... I- I came straight home. I don't understand."

"I didn't have a class last period," Rosalina soothed the growing nerves of the girl. "I had the whole afternoon off to myself."

"Then, that means you've been here for half an hour, doesn't it?"

"Oh, Zelda, you mustn't worry about commonalities such as time-"

The word worry sent chills down the girl's spine, causing her to sit straight up. Zelda shook her head. "No, oh Miss Adeline, please don't confuse my feelings with others. I'm not worried."

Thank heaven for Palutena, who bustled in through the kitchen door holding another cup of tea, with a bowl of creamer nestled under her arm. "There we go," she exclaimed, setting down the drink in front of her daughter. "Now we may all finally have that tea party I've been dreaming of!"

Rosalina sipped her tea. "I was going to comment on how, I hope, that Zelda has told you of the wonderful application she is pushing herself towards in English."

"I suppose."

"I spend many of my afternoons visiting the parents of my students, but few of them ever get sincere or deserving praise. Sincerity is hard to come across nowadays, especially with the youth. You need to be very proud of your daughter, Mrs. Miranda."

"Do you ask all of them to be in plays?" Palutena questioned, rubbing her chin.

Zelda froze, the clinking of china and splashing of tea filling the empty void in her ears, in her eyes, in her heart. Play? " _No, Miss Adeline... she wouldn't dare!_ _That's a heartless, bitch-like thing to do to someone like me. I make sure not to step on people as I walk..._ _oh, I must be dreaming_."

Rosalina gritted her teeth. "Indeed, that is true. Not often in my visits do I request the encouragement of auditioning for plays. Alas, it is on my agenda this time."

"But, Miss Adeline, haven't _we_ already discussed the terms of this?" Zelda stomped a foot. Exhibiting anger was the least of her worries.

"Then why are you here? If you've already discussed it... I mean," Palutena frowned. "My daughter has already decided to be in it."

"No, mother, it's the opposite," Zelda dissented. "Miss Adeline, please tell me the truth. You did not come to my house to talk about _that_ , did you?"

Rosalina opted to ignore her student, instead taking the guilt road. "Zelda, you aren't going to be in the play?"

"No! You wouldn't want me to. Mother would get lonely, you'd get lonely as I'd be preoccupied with other things and not have time to talk after class... and I'd look like a bumbling fool on stage next to Peach and all. Miss Adeline, please."

"Miss Adeline, I don't know. It's whatever Zelda wants. Whatever would be nice for her."

"What's nice for her," the school teacher of the trio hissed, surprised to have even taken that tone of voice, "Would to be auditioning for the show. It'll open doors you've never imagined!"

Palutena shrugged. "It would be _very_ nice for her..."

"It wouldn't! How could you even think that," Zelda cried with indignation. She couldn't believe her ears. "I'd hate it!"

That caused her mother to nearly fall off her chair. "Zelda, you are not supposed to say that word in this household. Ever!"

"It's not that I'd hate it..."

"You've said it again!" Palutena croaked, placing her tea down. Stomping out of the living room, it left Zelda's mouth half open, her eyes wide in disbelief. Rosalina was silent, perched stock full of tension on the cushions of the couch.

"Zelda, I am deeply sorry if I've upset your mother."

Zelda held her head high. "She isn't upset. My mother happens to like going out of rooms sometimes."

Rosalina set her folder down, and crossed the table. Leaning her head out into the hall, her heart sank when finding out it was empty. "My apologies, Zelda. It seems that your mother left. Has she gone perhaps to the-"

"She hasn't gone anywhere. Just away," Zelda interrupted her teaching standing. "Have you seen my dolls, Miss Adeline? I figure that my mother must've told you about them, with the tea parties and all. It's one of those topics she just haplessly throws out there, regardless of what the conversation entails. I have one in my room, I could show you it, if that's alright with you?"

The teacher never got to reply as Zelda vanished further into the house, assumingly going into her own room. With the sounds of rummaging disrupting the tranquil quiet of the living room, the teenager that the afternoon revolved around came back from her errand. A doll was clutched in her hands, gleaming porcelain skin. Drenched in a nasty orange cream color, the doll wore a tattered dress from years of usage and abuse, whichever one was more hurtful was up to the opinion of the beholder. Cracked eyes stared with emotionless anger back at Rosalina, cold shudders encasing her arms. The doll was hairless, save for one strand of cerulean paint dabbled between the nose and center of the forehead. A rather disgusting doll, when more passing thoughts were placed on the subject.

"Zelda," Rosalina said. She made her way to the girl. "I want you to compose yourself in the most respectful manner you can find, and listen to me," At this, Zelda took the doll in her arms and cradled it, as if it replaced her first heartbeat and supplied herself with endless energy. "All I'm asking you to do is audition for a play. If you get casted, you may drop out and that'll be perfectly fine. The need for serious panic is not necessary. Zelda... darling, are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, Miss Adeline."

"Good, for it is unlike you to be rude to authority," the school teacher asserted. "So, this doll... what's her name?"

"She hasn't got a name," Zelda replied harshly. "She's a nobody. _Like me, I'm the same as this blasted doll_."

Rosalina gave an enthusiastic grin, completely uncomprehending the true meaning behind the teenager's slick and depressing comment. "I see."

"Besides, it's silly," Zelda continued. "Dolls don't have names. They don't exist like humans do. Humans cannot be dolls, and dolls cannot be human. Simple as that." She made her way back around to the couch.

Rosalina followed her. "Zelda, dear, if you will just tell me why you don't want to be in the play, then I am positive we may configure something out. Things like this need to be straightened out, you know."

"It is based sorely on my name, the problems that come alongside it," Zelda explained. "If people were to read the program, they'd think that Belle should be played by an Amelia, or a Roxanne, or a Patricia. Not a Zelda. It's silly, just like naming dolls."

The school teacher shook her head, dismissing the foolishness. "Zelda! You know how fun rehearsals are for these shows, you've seen them firsthand. If you will not take the courage of being in the play, the least you could do is go to the dance this Friday. Its the one that helps kick off the fundraising season. Have you thought about going to it?"

"Yes, I have thought about it."

"Well, I am not embarrassed by asking this, nor should you be embarrassed by responding yes or no, then. If you like, you may go with me. I won't force you to socialize with anyone, you won't have to dance if you decide not to. We can pick out a dress for you. I'm sure there's got to be one lying around this house given all the turmoil your mother goes through to create one. Why she doesn't buy one... it's beyond me. However, that's not the point-"

"I- I have something else to do on Friday, at night. Thanks for the invite, Miss Adeline." Zelda shot down the proposal.

"Oh," Rosalina looked down at her feet, momentarily stunned and defeated. "Well... you have the week to think about it," she said distantly. She looked at the window, seeing that the bright mustard yellow glow of the sky was turning murky and dull, rain clouds accompanied by thunder rolling in. "Well, it seems that Mother Nature has decided to cut us short. I suppose I should leave, getting caught in the rain is not my ideal plan of walking home."

Zelda broke from her pensive state. "Miss Adeline, you don't like rain?"

"Heavens no. I'd rather kiss a porcupine," Rosalina sheepishly chuckled. She grabbed her coat, hugging the girl. "Please, oh please think about the dance. I will see you tomorrow in class."

"Yes, Miss Adeline."

"I suppose a thank you to your mother is in order."

"Why, that would be polite, wouldn't it," Zelda blinked. "My mother should be in the hall. Mother!" She led the way, Rosalina following her.

In the doorway, Palutena was standing in front of the mirror, one that Rosalina seemed to have missed when walking through the front. "Time for you to leave already?" she asked, her voice distant.

Rosalina outstretched her hand to shake Palutena's, but seeing as the matriarch failed to recognize the sign of friendliness, instead flinching rather than shaking back, the English teacher opted against it. "Thank you for having me over, Mrs. Miranda. The tea was splendid. Please make sure you tell Zelda to think over what I've told her."

"No need for that," Zelda overrode her mother. "I can think for myself just fine."

Rosalina had the door handle grasped in her hand. "Just remember it, at least for me, Zelda. Nothing ventured means there's nothing gained. Good day." The door to the house shut, sending the house back into a quiet stasis.

Palutena shook, her whole body shuddering. "Zelda, close the door," The door was already shut, the green-haired mother blinking rapidly in dazed confusion. "Never- nevermind that. Seems Miss Adeline did us a favor," A flickering eye landed on her daughter's hands, the sight of a doll clutched in Zelda's hands igniting a roaring fire within her soul. "You're playing with the doll! Zelda, when did you pick that habit up again? Won't you tell me," Zelda rolled her eyes, walking back to the living room. Palutena hastened after her. "Weren't you playing with the doll?"

"No, mother, I wasn't. I was only showing it to Miss Adeline."

"She has her best dress on."

"It isn't a she," Zelda said coldly. "It's only a doll." She handed it to her mother.

Palutena tossed the doll between her hands, absentmindedly filtering important thoughts from the needless ones. She looked up, glaring at her daughter, her voice reproachful and accusing. "I was told that you go to school in my dresses, and come home wearing horrid blouses and skirts. I make you pretty clothes. You should wear them, and as your mother, I am enforcing the command that you do. And, for once, let me comb your hair. It looks like a rat crapped in it. People will think I don't take care of you. And I do. A good mother takes care of her children." The doll went flying across the room, slamming into the wall, cracking underneath the right leg.

Zelda twiddled with her thumbs, sitting in the chair that held the unfinished dress. "Mother... when Miss Adeline was here-before I got home-did anything happen?"

Palutena sat back on the couch, taking the dress from Zelda's seat. Taking a sip of tea, she began knitting. She started to recover, the usual time lapse of shock and reality varied from day-to-day. "We had tea, and everything was nice."

"But, I want to know!" Zelda cried, intense and pleading.

"But, its nicer that we are now alone. That's always the best. Zelda, do not trouble yourself with my idle conversations, hardly do they ever concern you. But, your daily activities _do_ , as I'm your mother. How was your day?"

Zelda sat back in her chair. "Everything was fine," she said. Prompted by her mother's smile, she continued. "All my teachers were nice, chatting and smiling acts as our usual routine when it comes to me talking with them. And then-after school-I walked home with Peach and the other girls in my math class. We all talked, them more than me at least ninety five percent of the time. We had a good... we had a good time."

"What do you all talk about?"

"Normally it's just Peach getting in the word. She goes on and on about Marth," the hint of smile titled the corner of Zelda's lips. "Marth Lowell is the nicest boy I've ever met, he's considered to be the coolest and friendliest guy in the whole school. Everybody likes him, but _he_ likes Peach best. Everybody likes her the best, even moreso than him. I see what goes on, so I know that type of stuff."

"She's your best friend, right? Rosalina said otherwise..." Palutena trailed off. When Zelda did not respond, she paused from the knitting. "Isn't she, Zelda?"

Zelda closed her eyes shut, warding off invisible light that wished to scrape the lies off of her tongue. "There's a new boy at school. His name is Link. He's terrible."

Palutena resumed her ditzy actions, not realizing that the pattern on the dress was completely flipped halfway down. She pressed her lips together. "If this... _Link_ is so horrific, we will not talk about him."

"He wasn't paying attention during chemistry. We were learning about the alkalinity of metals and their reactions to water, if there happens to be any. Link was staring out the window, not the board. Mr. Falcon asked him what he was thinking about. He replied with the erroneous response of a poem, normal boys don't think of poems inside their head. He was writing a poem, in his head. Mr. Falcon told Link to stand up in the class and say it. There needed to be room for chemistry, not poetry in his head. And Link did, recited the whole thing; he wasn't even afraid."

"What was the poem? Do you remember?"

"Heavens no. Mother, you cannot expect me to remember something after someone I do not care for. It did deal with blooming roses that cried sparkly pink tears... rather childish and kiddy if you think about it."

"Sounds refreshing."

"He's terrible." Zelda repeated, shuddering. Zelda Miranda detested Link, the new kid of her school, Link Scottsdale.

Palutena sipped her tea. "I had another visitor today, around eleven or so. Old Ms. Puff, ever since her husband Mr. Kirby passed on due to cancer of the stomach. She's kind. She's lovely. She's also fat. I didn't offer her any of my tea, afraid she'd swell to the size of a balloon and float up into the ventilation that we hardly ever use. She came to see me this morning. I secretly hoped she wanted a dress, but alas, it wasn't the case. There was a letter... a letter from a friend. Odd things were written in that letter. It ended with a closure of... of love," Palutena shuddered a great deal. "I despise the word. And, of course, forgetting seems to be my woe of late... I had that second visitor. Miss Adeline. It- your teacher- she... she wished to talk about you. You have been a good girl at school, no?"

"Yes, I have."

"You must always be a good girl. You must remember that. If you don't, I'll pin your ears by forks in the bathroom, till you remember it." Palutena said nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just threatened her daughter.

"Mother... that single word bothers me," Zelda frowned. "Good. What is good? What does good mean?"

Palutena broke from the strands of purple and blue, the dress needles hanging limply from her cold hands. "What does it mean? I-"

A low rumble of thunder disrupted the beautiful occasion. It was going to rain. It never rained at the Miranda's house. Last time it ever did, it was when _he_ left, and when _he_ never came back. Zelda stood, and she started to the window. Yearning to go and dance in the puddles, she cared less what her mother would think of her. "It's pouring!"

Palutena raced by her daughter. "You needn't go in the rain! You're not supposed to, don't you know that? I did not raise some insane asylum patient. What do you want to accomplish out there? Pneumonia? Zelda, this is the one time you are not allowed in the rain. It's like what the psychic said on television, you close the curtains and windows when the rain is out. We have to pretend that the sun is shining indoors. Can you do that? Close your eyes and pretend that is! Come on! Pretend!"

"But it isn't! There's no fucking sun here!" Zelda cried.

"Your teacher said something else too, didn't she? What was it... oh yes, my darling Zelda Miranda shall be in a play!" Palutena exclaimed.

"I am not, like I've already said, will not be in the play!"

"Oh, Zelda, please-"

"There's all these events happening in your life, isn't there? How exciting! You have amazing best friends, lovely guys you can date, all of these new kids, ones that are poets and ones that you hate... and the dance! Oh Zelda, you must!"

"I- I was thinking about going."

Palutena nodded her head eagerly. "You could wear the party dress I made for you. I made it so carefully for you, and then you never even wore it. Won't you try it on to see how pretty you'll look?"

"Oh, mother, I couldn't-"

Palutena screamed, stomping her foot with sudden, shrill, and petulant anger. " _YOU COULD!_ I'll help you. I'll get the dress, and then I'll help you put it on! You'll see how pretty you look. It's like the psychic said, white draws out the fire in people. That crippling hatred just must be shown, don't you agree?" She raced from the room, leaving Zelda to shout with unmerciful protest.

"I couldn't wear it! I'll hate you forever!" Zelda shouted, trying to make her voice heard for once.

Palutena was back, the dress draped with her arms. "I brought the dress, Zelda. It honestly is pretty. It looks like a wedding dress. I like to look at it, you know. It looks clean and good." She sat, staring dreamily at the dress. Old memories stirred gorgeous thoughts inside her brain, quite unorthodox from normal resituates.

Zelda sat down on the carpet. "Mother... were you ever in a play?"

"What if I was?"

"Was it-did you like it?"

"Why, of course," Palutena drawled. "I like everything that ever happened. Even _him_."

"But, mother, really. You wouldn't think about yourself, would you, because you'd be someone else. Either, in a play, you are yourself-or someone else. That's easy to understand, right? You have to be _somebody_!"

Palutena giggled, not in any way silly or crazy giggle would come out, but charming and young... like the sweet way two little girls would laugh together. "Somebody! Of course you have to be somebody!"

Zelda was out of breath, her mother's antics sometimes helped that. "Yes... I suppose," she whispered. Licking her lips, she pressed on. "Today in school we did a drawing. It was a family tree. Mine was decorated with those cherry blossoms, given how much you love them. It was pretty, full of color and everything. After decorating it, we added the names. We added the people." She picked at the carpet.

"What people?"

"The ones in our family. Our- our relatives. Peach put her father down, the doctor. And her mother. She also had grandparents," Zelda trailed off. "I had only you to place there in the middle. I felt so scared that someone was going to notice. I wanted to ask you, mother, what was my grandmother's name? I have to know it, so I can place it on the tree."

"Trees don't have people!" Palutena barked.

"It's only make believe!" Zelda defended the beauty of family trees.

"If you want to participate in something make believe, you need to be in the play."

"I want to be in it!"

"Then why don't you audition?"

Zelda slowly stood. "I'm afraid."

"There's many things to be afraid of in this world, dear Zelda. I would know," Palutena comforted. "Auditioning for a play should _not_ be one of them. Like, be afraid of sewing. I can prick myself and bleed out all over this dainty couch. That's frightening, that's something to be afraid of. Did I show you how I sewed this dress in my hands, darling? Ms. Puff actually got married in it now that I think about it. Heavens, she was much thinner then. Must've been the Kanto diet that the psychic on television recommended she take. Wonder what happened to the psychic now that I think about it... and the diet...?"

"The dress is nice. Mother... was your wedding dress nice?"

"My- my wedding dress?"

"What was it like?"

Palutena looked front, staring at the rain that poured from the clouds. "My wedding dress was-actually, Ms. Puff's dress is white."

"Yes, mother, we've already established that. Was _your_ wedding dress white?" Zelda asked again.

"I never had a white dress. _You_ have white dresses, for I've made them. I haven't, in my entire life, ever have worn a white dress. I did, and it's reminiscent of my youth Zelda, wear a blue dress once. We were at the bandstand. The band was playing."

Zelda smiled to herself, staring at the top of the dress her mother was knitting. "You know... I could be Belle. I could be Belle in the play. And then one day I'll add their names to my tree."

"Sounds nice, sweetheart." Palutena absentmindedly replied, sipping more tea.

Zelda walked to the window pane, letting the sound of raindrops, lightning cymbals, and thunder claps consume her. "I'll wear the dress to the dance, mother," she announced. "Belle went to a dance you. And she wasn't afraid. Neither should I!"

Nothing was going to ruin the night of the dance. Nothing.

Well, maybe except one thing.

The boy.

Yeah, _him_.

Link Scottsdale, of course.

Yeah, _him_.

* * *

 **And, here we are my fellow readers at the end of another chapter! Man, I loved this one more than the first, truly diving into Zelda's frame of mind, alongside Rosalina's delusions and Palutena's illusions. Here are the review replies!**

 **Metroid-Killer- Your compliment is too kind, in all seriousness. I take speechlessness as a good thing, but let me know when _that's_ not the case.**

 **Twilight Joltik- Don't worry Jolty. Palutena is harmless. Err... _can_ be harmless moreso. And this story is going down some speedy train tracks, ones that loop and have ninety degree drops. That's where!**

 **ExodiusLK- I, at first thought you thought this was a one-shot. Nope, then we discussed yadda yadda and there we are. I appreciate the warm praise, but there's gotta be more deep criticism, _something_ to drawl on. Yeah, romance fits into this alright, you'll see. Rosalina's job as a teacher does not involve going around to places and saying that their child needs help- that's a psychologist. She isn't one.**

 **Writer of Worlds- Long time no see! It's so great to hear from you again, and I hope everything goes great in your wonderful life. I'll try keeping at it. :D**

 **Mikaela- I'm too lazy to type your whole name, yet I'm ready to make a 5000 word or more chapter. Yeah, makes one hundred percent sense. I'm just rolling the awesome one-liners off today, aren't I? But, yes, thank you for your review. You and I can do praise shots all day since that's all we do to each other. And, don't worry, we've got Peach, Link, and Marth next chapter. It ought to be fun!**

 **Thanks for reviewing you guys, it means the world to me. I'm gonna see you all sometime soon with Chapter 3, and I think we all know what it's called. Yep, here comes Chapter 3: Link Scottsdale. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, review and tell me your thoughts! I'll reply to it down here, and trust me, I read everything you guys say. Criticism, praise, thoughts, questions- all of that good stuff. See you all next time! Love you guys! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	3. Chapter 3: Link Scottsdale

**Hey everyone, it's Paradigm of Writing here with Chapter 3 of Teach Me How to Cry, Link Scottsdale. Last chapter was great, I had a blast typing it and making Zelda's character. Today, we'll be seeing the introduction of not one, not two, not even three, but _five_ characters! Lovely Peach, Samus and Lucina, Marth, and the greatest character I'll write as a main male- Link. I am excited beyond excited to start, and this story will be wrapped up nicely one day, and when that happens, I'll be devastated because its a part of me, I swear it. View count has been slow, the fandom must be a tad slow in the traffic for awhile. I love it, oh I could go on and on for days. But, anywhom, let's get to the chapter, #3: Link Scottsdale! Enjoy!**

* * *

Bright bursts of anemic white light flooded the night sky, gay and boisterous club music resonating alongside the waves of color. Dancers of all shape and size, skin color, eye color, voice, and expression went to and from, inside and out of the gymnasium at Hyrule High. Strawberry streamers lined the walls, amaranthine, emerald, crimson and sunburst balloons floating amid the cluster of bodies.

Noisy laughter echoed from one couple in particular, a single boy and girl couple spinning and jiving in their dance wear as they made their way from the gymnasium to the courtyard. Upon closer inspection, one would find that the two most popular kids in all of Hyrule High's history would be the pair in question. Peach Eona and Marth Lowell, the decadent duo of school who ruled with an iron fist. Half the student body was so brainwashed, it didn't matter.

Marth held Peach close to him, and then spun her out in a gorgeous pirouette glissade. After landing, the ever so lucky girl skittered to the ground in a spinning daze. Giggling heavily, Peach dusted off her dress. Clinging to her back with the presence of a phantom, a backless hot pink blouse decorated her front. Her light, fluorescent halcyon hair shone brighter than any ray a disco ball in the gymnasium could emit. Two aquamarine eyes hid behind a coat of iridescent cardinal mascara.

Her date for the night kissed her, tugging Peach closer to his chest. If anyone was to say that Marth Lowell _liked_ the color blue... they'd be lying to themselves. He _loved_ the color blue, wore and made everything resemble the same shade. From his glistening navy hair, to his blueberry suit and pants, all the way to his electric raspberry blue shoes... it was evident Marth had a certain attachment to the said color. Atop his head, a small crown, few would dare call it a tiara, rested quietly, almost resembling some sign of royalty.

Peach broke away from him, out of breath, before stuttering out a mix between a chuckle and snort. "Oh! Marth, you're terrible? Don't you know that? You're terrible, disgusting, foul... foulest thing I've ever seen."

The bluenette raised a hand in mock surprise, pointing a delicate finger back at himself. "Why? What did I do that was so horrifying, my majesty?"

"You dance with me as if you own me!"

Marth grinned, swiping his hair like a gentleman would do. "If I owned you, my dear, I wouldn't dance with you at all," A mischievous glint flickered from his mouth to his eyes, in a way only he could do. "I'd take you to the bandstand, and there we'd let our joyous cries and echoes have the power of a guitarist with the four winds at his disposal. Now doesn't that sound enticing?"

Peach turned a violent shade of scarlet, having to use her dress as a muffler. When her 'episode' was over, which involved raucous croaks that sounded like a dying pick, incessant kicking, and many tears, she pushed him in the shoulder. "My, my... the things you say. They leave me speechless, dear Marthy. Why, if I let you say whatever comes to your mouth... we may have a dilemma on our hands! You could become the next Winston Churchill if I let you keep this up! I wouldn't want that. You'd be away from me."

"I could take you with me, and besides, why _don't_ we go to the bandstand? It'd be much prettier than here, Peach. Everyone here adores you, meaning I have little time to keep you for myself," he teased, throwing an arm around her. "Look at the moon. Isn't it gorgeous? Well, I mean... it is pretty, but you _are_ prettier."

The two broke off from the chat to stare at the celestial object in the sky. Around it, pitch black, but then a sudden burst of brightness, gorgeous pallid and slate strips that made up the moon. It added some comfort to the night, whether someone wanted to admit it or not. Peach felt that way sometimes, she got comfort from things that couldn't talk back to her- it let conquering become a much easier hobby rather than a chore.

"It's pretty..." she drawled.

"We'd be closer to it at the bandstand, since its on the hill and everything." Marth suggested.

"No," Peach frowned. "... We're closer to it here, out in this drab courtyard. Besides, why would we want to drive away from the party," she indicated to the inside, animated gestures with her hands causing Marth to crack a smile. "Well, I _am_ the party, and wherever I go, it goes. But, that'd be too much of a hassle."

"If you say so..."

She twirled out away from him, going to rest on a bike rack bolted into the cement. "So, did you hear about Nana? I mean, do you believe it?"

"What has she done that is so scandalous? I mean, it's not such a terrible thing if she looked at me all day. I _am_ hard to resist, considering you're dating me." Marth winked.

"Well, I was told by Lucina that she went up to the bandstand with Roy and had a one-night stand! Yes, I'm serious. Roy had _hinted_ it to Lucina, for he was just bubbling over in excitement. I'm surprised the kid didn't have a heart attack, with all of that energy he has." Peach gossiped.

"Well, if it is true, Roy oughta shut up about it."

The popular girl of Hyrule High laughed, slapping the metal bar ferociously with her palm, the reverberations echoing into the empty air space. "Man, that crown probably does deserve to be on that head of yours. Look at you, being so noble. Is the inner Gaston inside Marth Lowell peeking through the curtains tonight?"

"Maybe so... maybe not. It's up to you," Marth smirked. An imaginary light bulb went off in his head, and he practically raced over to Peach. A not to subtle hand landed subconsciously on her butt, one gently wiping off foundation from her cheeks. "Why don't we, since you _are_ auditioning for Belle, practice the love scenes together?"

"There _aren't_ any love scenes between Gaston and Belle in the show, let alone the movie."

"We can make one up. It doesn't sound too torturous once you get used to it."

Peach shushed him with a kiss. "I'll kiss you for all its worth, but I haven't gotten the part yet. We can add our own parts to the script later... but first I must seize Belle's dress before anything else."

"Well, you're going to audition for it, right? You always play the leads. _I_ always play the male leads," Marth said. He frowned. "And people wonder why we're dating..."

"I have started memorizing the part, actually," Peach admitted sheepishly, pink tints burning at her cheeks. "But... Mr. Griel has decided to hold auditions. Holding auditions has never happened in Hyrule High's history. I don't know, honestly, what he's thinking. Not that I mind waiting my turn, but moreso for the others who _won't_ be getting the part. I always get them, like you said. People will be disappointed all for nothing, and that cannot happen. It'd be a colossal waste of time."

Marth rubbed her arm. "Aw, don't worry sweet pea. I'll put a word in for you."

"Sweet pea?" Peach made a face.

"Just an expression."

The sound of someone walking up behind them stopped the conversation, Peach holding a hand up to signify the universal word quiet. The two looked both ways at opposite times to check the area completely, Marth's eyes fiercely snagging up the intruder.

"Oh! Well, isn't this a welcoming change?"

Peach followed his gaze, a pleasant smile forcing her mouth to grin widely. "Zelda! My, this certainly is unexpected indeed!"

Zelda Miranda stood a little bit down from the two, her mother's pearly white gown sticking to her body rather unattractively. But the dress didn't matter, as she looked ethereal, standing in the pool of moonlight that poured from the heavens. Her sepia hair was down, long and curly with a single petunia flower stuck in at her left ear. For the first time in her life, she actually felt worth more than total garbage. "Hello." she whispered.

Marth raised an eyebrow, whistling low enough so only the newcomer to the party could hear. "Well, Zelda, I must say, you look exceptionally divine this evening. Where have you been all my life?"

His date shoved him playfully, before stepping up closer. Although Peach hated to admit it, but his sudden interest in _her_ stung. A little chip of Peach Eona's pride came tumbling down, and afterwards, a rock slide of bitter hate. "That dress does look really nice on you... honestly, it does. Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, thank you." Zelda nodded.

Peach's expression was grim, she could care less if asked. "That's- that's nice. Who did you come with?"

"Myself, actually. I had no time when I decided to come, no guy was available. And, although it hurts to confess, I didn't want to be here with anyone. So, on the same token, I am happy to be single, even if I don't show it."

"Tis a shame," Peach lied, patting her in the back. "But, my question to you is... you haven't seen that awful Link Scottsdale around, have you? I swear, he's like mold growing underneath a gnawed piece of clothing. Hell, he's a roach."

"N- no, I haven't, Peach. Sorry."

"He's a terrible pest. Damn, he's been chasing me around all evening. Asking for a dance at the juice table, wanting to take a picture with me by the photo booth. He even had the courage to glare, not just look, but _glare_ at Marth! How dare him! I just want him to leave me alone, and I'll stop talking about him. Rather simple, honestly. Unless the kid doesn't have any brains."

"Very well may be the case." Marth chuckled.

"Would you mind, Marthy, telling him to stop being so fresh?"

Zelda excused herself, walking past the couple to sit on the bench nearby, one under an elm tree over in the right side of the courtyard. "I'll keep an eye peeled..." she whispers, eyes downcast to the ground.

Marth patted Peach's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry darling. I'll challenge him to a sword fight, using sticks. My weapon would be called Falchion, and his would be named Poetry. Such an aghast title to give to a mighty weapon of bronze, I feel. Knowing the guy, he might be that hopeless. We'd be fighting till dawn, for he wants to win your virtuous heart, but alas I have already taken the pride of doing so."

Peach giggled. "Man of valor, most certainly. Would you mind getting me some punch?"

"Why, most certainly madam," her date grinned. Skipping gaily over to the gymnasium entrance, he almost bumped into some of Peach's friends. "Pardon me ladies, the royal highness needs her drink."

One of the friends, Samus Cartwright, rolled her eyes. "Boys..." she muttered. Samus, although known not to be the most prissy female around, did have her fair share of similarities. A main one, was being so called 'backup' for Peach Eona. Her blonde hair was curly, a simple skirt and leggings clothing her slim frame.

Lucina Lowell on the other hand was the spitting image of Marth, being his sister and all of that family jazz. Her deep indigo hair was pulled back into an easy ponytail, her hazel eyes lighting up from the moment her own landed on Peach. "Marth can be such an idiot. He's even worse outside the house, I'm telling you."

Samus strode over to Peach. "We've been looking all over for you. The gymnasium is way too crowded to carry on a pleasant conversation. Figured that the noise would bother you, we came outside."

"Have you heard about Nana?" Lucina asked, her eyes sparkling.

Peach clamped a hand on either side of her, indicating that her friends would be making a wise decision to stand next to her. "Any more news? It's high school, we've got to have some new information about this somewhere."

"Someone saw her at the bandstand with a boy. Rumors say it's Roy. I, to be honest, don't care who was up there as long as they didn't do anything we're not supposed to." Samus said under her breath.

The head honcho girl of the trio waved her hand in dismissal of the proclamation. "Boring. That stuff is old and unnecessary. Good lord, you don't think I wouldn't know that? I know all about it. Move on."

"So what? You know what it means!" Lucina shrieked, overcome by her rude tendencies.

Samus pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhhh! Peach, you know better to not talk about it when she's around," she jutted a finger at Zelda, who was leaning under the leaves of the elm tree, eyes to the stars. The three girls stared momentarily, before breaking contact. "You remember the rumor? Something to do with Zelda's mother and her father at the bandstand... maybe an event too disastrous to talk about. It'd be wise to avoid it in her presence. It's the least we could do."

Peach shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. Any person, boy or girl... whomever goes to that place deserves exactly what comes to them."

"Maybe she didn't do anything, then." Samus mused, defending Nana.

"When a place has a reputation like that... hell, you don't have to do anything for people to talk. That's inevitable with the bandstand." Lucina sneered.

"Will Nana get expelled? Roy too?" Samus wondered.

"No," Peach dissented. "Neither of them will. Knowing our teachers, Miss Adeline will step in with both of them and have a 'talk'. There'll be a talk for both of them, before Head Master Mario says anything about indecent activities to both of them. Miss Adeline likes to step her shoes in places where she doesn't belong. I wouldn't put it far past her to know that our dear old English teacher flung herself around there before. Besides, her talks are harmless. I've had one myself. Had to keep a straight face from laughing, her views were so crazy and far out there I should've called the Skyworld Insane Asylum for her. It's where she belongs..."

Lucina frowned, disturbed by the other's harsh words. "What did she talk about?"

"You think I can remember something as stupid like that? Some self-respecting bullshit I suppose. A person must tolerate her talks. It's like a release."

"Release from what?" Samus twirled a curl of hair around her fingers.

"I don't know. Her frustrations, I guess," Peach took a shot at the gander. "Miss Adeline wishes she could be heard, but she talks in front of a mirror or a puppet instead. Rumor has it... she wants to be a psychologist. Can you imagine? Miss Rosalina Adeline being a psychologist? Pah!"

"The things you say..." Lucina lowered her voice, tossing a glance at Zelda.

"My father is a doctor. I think, after being around the medical field for so long, you pick up on certain things," Peach explained. "I know a lot of things. For instance, did you know that everyone gets frustrated? Take that poor Luigi Hannity kid in Government with us."

"He tried committing suicide last month, Peach." Samus reminded her.

"And there you are! Happened because of frustration!"

"Awfully clever?" Lucina honestly had no idea what to even say.

Samus picked a leaf from her skirt. "I wonder if that Link Scottsdale is looking for you."

"Perhaps," Lucina mused. "I think he's kinda cute."

Peach rubbed her chin. "Girls, could you go find Marth? He's probably at the refreshment table, stuck staring at his reflection in the punch bowl. Keep him occupied. I want to go scouting for that Scottsdale boy."

"But, what will we keep him busy with?" the two girls synonymously replied.

"Something he likes! Himself for example!" Peach suggested.

"Seems reasonable enough." Samus shrugged.

"Go! Get going!" Peach pushed the two girls into the gymnasium, both squealing and grunting of how mother superior was ruining their clothes. Typical girl things, technicalities that the popular girl in school could not take time dealing with. Priorities, she'd hiss. Priorities mattered. In her life, it went from herself, to Marth, to getting all the leads in the plays, and once again back to herself.

Before she could start her elusive search for Link Scottsdale, another person tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me?"

Sick and tried of all the interruptions, whether they be from her boyfriend, friends who had no brain, or idiotic girls who mothers screwed up and life, Peach whirled around and grabbed the person by the collar. She dropped the stranger, completely embarrassed to be clutching the collar of the dress shirt belonging to Link Scottsdale.

The infamous Link Scottsdale. Only had been at Hyrule High for less than a week and already had a name for himself, a terrible one at that, if you were inclined to ask Zelda her opinion of him. Peach cleared her throat, holding out her hand, which Link dutifully shook. A bushy olive green cap was perched atop his head, hiding a young and healthy wave of maple blonde hair. A quirky smile, one that was held back, but had the secrets of the world accompanied his two eyes that gleamed a rich sapphire. A low cut, forest green tunic went down to his legs, tan colored leggings stopping at laced up hunter boots, a deep mahogany. If Peach wanted to give him an honest answer, he was a very cute, _very_ attractive, and even more crazy.

"I am so sorry-" Peach started.

"I have been looking for you all night," Link said, gripping her arm. "Say... listen, didn't you promise me a dance?"

"You must be mistaken. Beg your pardon, but I don't recall-"

He wasn't giving her the time of day, possibly the only person in the world to have the bravery to even attempt such a stupid act. "I said, you promised me a dance. Don't you remember? We were in the gym, I had a cup of juice in one hand, and a steno notebook in the other... I asked you when I first got here since that other guy you hang around with was absent, flirting with himself by the punch bowl. Was the music perhaps too loud and you just couldn't hear me?"

"Yes, I do remember you asking me. However, I don't believe you and I have been introduced." Peach replied coolly.

"Oh, sure we have," Link smiled heartily. "I'm Link Scottsdale. I'm in your Calculus class, and we also have Government together!"

She knew his game. "That can hardly be considered an introduction, you know. It's done by a formal greeting, usually a hello, with a handshake or hug soon after. So not, we have not met. You must have mistaken me for someone else. Terribly sorry to disappoint you."

Link paused, biting his lip. Peach smirked, she got him. He opened his mouth, making her pride hide underneath a rock. "What's the use anyways? I can see that you'll lead me aloof unless I go away rejected. If you don't want to dance with me, then just say so. That's all. I think counting to ten in Spanish is harder than this. Just a straight yes or no."

Peach silently cussed. He set his cards well, must not have been his first time doing so. "All right, since you're so sincere about it. No." she replied wearily, a little bit dismayed, slightly trifled.

"Okay! Nice doing business with you," he nodded happily, leaving Peach to herself. Her face turned purple with animalistic rage, upset that she had been set up from the get go. Link made his way over to Zelda, who after giggling her heart from out from watching the interaction between he and Peach, did not expect the new student of Hyrule High to find an interest in her. "You're Zelda Miranda, right?"

"Yes." Zelda said meekly.

"We're in the same class."

"I know."

Link jerked his head back towards the popular school princess. "Don't you just hate being stood up? Doesn't matter the circumstances of said standing, but like tonight I suppose is a good example. Like... when a person promises another person a dance and then won't deliver."

Peach stomped her foot. "That's not nice, you asshole! I'd appreciate not being talked about in public."

"We'd all appreciate a lot of things," he replied back coldly. He brought his attention back to the girl under the tree. "So, Zelda, what do you think?"

"I don't see why she should dance with you if she doesn't feel like it. It's her decision."

"But she promised."

"People promise a lot of things, but they still don't happen." Zelda shot back.

"She _promised_. You know, an important word of honor." Link urged.

"Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe she just felt like it then, but _you_ stood her up."

Peach held her head high in the air. "I didn't. I never felt like dancing with him, and I never promised him either. He makes up lies, Link Scottsdale is a wonderful speaker of poetic bullshit. Lovely, isn't it," she strode over to Link, before slapping him across the face. "I think you're the rudest boy I've ever met! I've made that joke with Marth once or twice before, but tonight I mean it. You're disgusting, you know that? You-you have-you have no finesse whatsoever!" With a swish of her hair, Peach Eona stomped off into the gymnasium, imaginary smoke spilling out of her ears.

Link watched her go. "Girls like that... they make me sick. She must feel entitled to something, has to be. Otherwise she wouldn't talk like that, definitely not to someone she doesn't know. I met her four days ago, and I got looked at if I had some sort of disease," he droned to Zelda. "You know... since you defended her back there... is she one of your friends?"

Zelda nodded solemnly. "Yes." She rose, ready to go back inside. Before she could make a step, he blocked her way.

"Well, I don't like your friends that you hang out with."

"I don't care whether you do or not!" she hissed. Seeing as he probably wasn't going to move any time soon, she sat back down with an indignant huff. Why did he have to be so annoying?

"Then that makes us even! It's nice to be on the same playing field," Link said. He sighed, sitting down next to her. All she did was stare at him, in the same way she had stared at Rosalina in her living room a few days before. "Look, I think there's something that must be said between the two of us, and I'm sorry. It's an inner working of my mind that acts as my hubris, my fatal flaw of antagonizing people. You know what I mean? It, well, it's not like I _mean_ to. It just happens. And there's nothing I can about it afterwards because by that point I've done too much damage for it to be fixable. Perhaps you think I do it on purpose. Fine if you do. It's the only trait of mine that I've shown you... so go ahead if you wish. People are surprised at me, but I'm not surprised at myself. I know how I work. But... maybe I should be surprised at myself. It may change some things."

Zelda frowned. " _Perhaps I was wrong about him_?" she thought.

Link ran a hand through his hair, and he stood. "Would you be my dancing partner since I was ignored?"

"No- no thank you. I'm fine."

"Do you want me to go away?"

"I don't care whether you do or not."

"Well, if you don't say it aloud, I'll assume you haven't despised me yet. Least it's something," he smiled, sitting back down again. The entire conversation was a game of sit and stand, one interesting concept. "I'm new here."

"I know." Zelda rolled her eyes. Annoyance was an emotion hard to hide.

Link rubbed his chin. "I've noticed you though, amid my unpacking and introductions. You- you're different from the other ones. The girls, I mean," The pause between the two seemed to last a millennium. "Will you audition for Beauty and the Beast?"

"I- I don't know."

"I'm not," he admitted. "Do you know why not? Not many do," Zelda stared at him with empty feeling, although her mind was moreso thinking on how he thought she could read minds. "I'm more of the writer type. My grandfather was a writer, as well as my grandmother. Seemed that the genes skipped a generation. I'm going to be a writer... my mother has already set my predetermined future. I write poetry. She hates me for writing poetry, asks that I should dabble in fiction instead. I love that genre and all, but I can't immerse myself in those worlds. They're too intricate, have too many pieces to put together in a puzzle. However, because she's my mother, she finds some light in that depressing idea and thinks something will come of it. Although... my poetry is awful. Terrible."

"Do you like it here?" Zelda asked.

"Out here in the courtyard?"

"No. Here in town."

"If my opinion won't hurt you too badly... I liked my old town I was in before better." Link smiled sheepishly.

"Oh."

"The park is the best place in town. Those cherry blossoms are beautiful."

"I love cherry blossoms," Zelda's eyes lit up. "My mother adores them. She needs to get out more, so she could see them frequently as they keep her company just as well as I do."

Link looked her over. "They'd look nice in your hair. Stunning in fact."

Zelda flinched back in a startled fashion. She licked her lips, stunned for words. She racked her brain for thoughts. "We- we have four churches in town! Only town within a thirty mile radius to have that claim to fame."

"Earth shattering," he replied sarcastically, sticking his tongue out at her. He wised up, her frown sinking his heart. "You do? I've only been to one of them. Down by the intersection near the Wendy's and the bank, right?"

"After you get used to this town, you might like it more."

Link frowned. "I don't think that'll be the case. That won't happen. I _know_ it won't happen, more than likely. Because, by the time I become comfortable, I pack up and move. It's a joyful occasion, moving I mean. All things must move on anyways, it's human nature."

"Why would you move?" Zelda wondered.

"Like I stated, human nature. Human nature requires the movement of our bodies. Without migration, we'd be pointless and have no purpose. Least, that's what my dad thinks. He talks all the time, more than I do. Hard to believe, but I let him drone on since he's very worldly and knows much about the mannerisms people exhibit. It's why we get up and leave so often," he pulled down his tunic. "Let's play a game. Not too hard, just a simple guessing game. How many towns and there have been a few cities, have I lived in during my lifetime?"

"I couldn't. That's like guessing where the needle is in a haystack."

"Go on, just guess. Not gonna hurt me if you're wrong."

Zelda bit her lip. "Well... six?"

Link laughed. "Oh how I wish that was the case. Au contraire, Mrs. Miranda, but I've been in seventeen different houses throughout my life. One for every year."

"I'd like that." she responded thoughtfully.

"No, no you wouldn't. In all due respect, you'd hate it."

The word hate caused Zelda to flinch, though he didn't notice. She swallowed the gulp she didn't know she was holding. "Yes, I would. You wouldn't think it, but I honestly dislike living here. Well, perhaps I should rephrase it, as I don't _dislike_ it- after all we have a nice town, thanks to those cherry blossoms. The people are friendly, an extra bonus I suppose. Maybe I'm wrong and _do_ like it here."

"I think you meant what you said in the first place." Link said, looking at her straight in the eyes.

"What?"

"That you hate it here."

Zelda shook her head, her mouth closed in a thin, grim line. "No, I didn't mean that! I didn't!"

"Okay," he breathed, holding his hands out. "If it'll make you feel better, my option for a dance still stands."

"I don't care about dancing."

"Isn't that a coincidence? Seems like one to me," Link eagerly smirked. "Because I don't give you shits about dancing either."

"Then why are you so anxious to dance?" Zelda's eyes started to hurt, staring at his face for so long. Link spoke so much of fixing puzzles, that he didn't look introspectively back on himself to realize he was the worse enigma of them all.

He rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah... I know, it's backwards. I call myself the Unorthodox King. It fits me like a glove. My thoughts... they are things I can't figure out. I like figuring things out, it fills me as a person since I have something to pass the time with. I wish that my family would stay in one place, simply because the fact of settling down helps people learn more about themselves. There's much I wish to explore, should I be frank."

Zelda's curiosity got the best of her. "Why do you move so much?"

"On account of my father's business," Link explained. "He's sort of a salesman. Calendars, plants, window panes and frames, books... anything that rhymes with trinket or booklet, really. My mother calls him a demonstrator. He hates when she does. He yells, sometimes rips out his hair... I personally find that too excessive and unnecessary, but it's my family and I love that about them."

"That's nice. My father was like that, except he did that with politicians. My mother mentioned it once over tea."

"A coincidence, perhaps? Does he do it any more?"

Zelda looked the other way. "I- I don't know. He went away a long time ago, before I could remember. All I know about him is the stuff my mother has told me, over tea of course."

"That's too bad."

"I've gotten used to it, which is a terrible thing to say. But I have! I can't deny how I feel, I'd be a hypocritical liar. I don't mind knowing I don't care. Besides, having a father around... I don't need that. He'd get in the way."

"In the way?" Link furrowed his eyebrows.

"Between me and my mother," Zelda elaborated. "My mother and I have delightful conversations. They are over tea, with a cookie here or there. She teachers me wonderful things. For instance, I've learned about the process of weddings. She told me about hers. She had a dress, like most weddings. It was white."

"Wedding dresses are nice when they're white."

"There was also a band playing at her wedding."

"A band? I don't remember there being a band when my parents got married. There was a karaoke machine though, and apparently my mom destroyed the machine with her voice. Disastrous, they tell me."

"Well, there was one at hers," Zelda scowled. "It might have been the one that played at the bandstand, before it burned down. It is supposed to be haunted... and that can allude to the theory that _they're_ the ghosts of the place."

"Is it haunted?" Link asked, his voice full of eagerness.

"They say it is."

"Why do they say that?"

"Why? I don't believe the reason why they do, it is more because of what happens there. It's got a terrible reputation. Nobody respectable goes there. That's what Peach was talking about, actually. With her friends."

"Why do people with no respect go there?"

Zelda huffed. "Because they _just_ do. Why does anyone do anything in this world, Link? But, yes, the bandstand has been burned down. I think Marth's best friend's father had something to do with it ages ago. It is a terrible place. It- it didn't _used_ to be. Everyone loved going there. My mother tells me stories of what the hill it rests on used to look like. Sunshine painted the flowers in a golden bath, people laughed, people cried, people had a wonderful time. Sometimes my mother cries when telling me, especially about the loving atmosphere in the air. She cries all the time about it. Oh-I don't mean she cries very much, but that-"

"That's okay," Link whispered. "My mother cries too, sometimes there is screaming coursed in with it, but I can't expect everything to be perfect. All mothers cry."

"And how would you know that?"

"I figured it out."

"Do- do fathers?"

"No. At least, not from what I've seen. They'd like to. The holding of that emotion is worse than how women do it. I've experienced it."

"You know, I'd like if you could recite one of your poems for me," Zelda picked at the bark of the elm tree. "Is it too much to ask?"

"I may decide to do that one day, but I am afraid," Link smiled sheepishly. "I'm worried that you would laugh at me."

"No! I wouldn't do that," Zelda whined, before stepping back a notch. "Least, I _hope_ I wouldn't do that. It'd be awful of me. I don't laugh very much as it is."

"Why not?"

"I just don't seem to. Do you laugh? If so, how does it feel?"

"Nice, whenever it happens. Except, I don't do it often either. I smile instead. I smile at a lot of things. I saw a dog today, the animal was chasing a duck. It wasn't out of anger though, it seemed cute and nice. So I smiled at it. And, I also wrote a poem about it, too. I write poems about many of the things I see. It's quite fun."

"That's adorable. But, a duck and a dog? Are you sure? How can you make sense of that?"

"I can't! But, it's alright," Link replied enthusiastically. "I had to sit down and figure it out for a long time before it made sense. I figure everything out.:

"Does it come out even? The knowledge, and understanding of things?" Zelda asked.

"Gee, I wish. No, it doesn't. The fact that it comes out and there's a piece to hold on to means so much more, however."

"But if you think it does, and really can believe it, what does it matter if it doesn't?"

"It matters a lot, actually. I'll explain it to you-"

Zelda jumped, as if she had been touched by fire. "I- I have to go inside."

"Then I'll go in with you and we'll dance." Link invited.

"No!"

"Listen, what's the matter with me then? My offer is rather good, least I see it so."

"There isn't anything. It's me," Zelda held her head high. "I don't know how to dance."

Link smiled. "Then I'll teach you."

Zelda panicked. "But I don't want to!" She closed her eyes, waiting for the abusive hit to come wailing out of nowhere. Except nothing came.

Inside the gymnasium, the crashing of cymbals busted out a song that she rather liked. Zelda took a step back as Link, who had his eyes closed, moved forward all the while swaying to the side. She opened her mouth, ready to deflect and say that she didn't want to be taught when the two stood stock still facing each other. Link opened his eyes, smiling. Zelda didn't know how to react. The two waited, and slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his right hand. He held it out to her, and she froze in perfect balance, her eyes never leaving him. Then slowly, ever so slowly, did Zelda raise her left hand, placing it in his right. And what happened next, neither could see coming.

Link grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her. Thing is...

Zelda didn't break apart the kiss.

She kissed him back.

* * *

 **Wow! This is... well, I must say, quite the chapter, hmm? I hope it certainly held your attention throughout, as I'll try and get the newer chapters out some time, or at least start them, this weekend. Not a definite, but I am wishing to get something down by then, as it'll be a manageable update. Reviews galore!**

 **FireEmblemNerd0909- Yep, Marth is in this story! As you just saw lol. And, thank you!**

 **Smash King24- Firstly, no need to apologize for you thinking your review as harsh, mean-spirited etc... You were honest and critical, that is what I need. Now, you got exactly what I was meaning to do! It's a 20's-50's dialogue and narration feel set in modern day, which I'll actually be explaining in the next chapter. I also have made character bios for every character in the play, explaining them in full or somewhat understandable detail, and I'll divulge certain ones to you if you are inclined. I, in no way, take aggression for your opinions and thoughts. It is a welcoming side of every argument. And again, thank you for putting this story on the awesome story of the week list on your profile. It always tickles me purple, for I undermine my writing all the time.**

 **Mikaela- It is odd, that Zelda hated Link for reading poetry, but again, think of her background. She may hate him even more now because of what just transpired after she realized what has happened, or maybe not. Chapter 5 will probably elaborate on that more. Palutena and Zelda's weird conversations are certainly not over. Oh hell no, they've only just begun. And, thank you for reviewing, I need to get around to reading your work just as much.**

 **ExodiusLK- No need to apologize about lateness or anything. I'm awful with deadlines or being asked, so don't knock yourself over. One of this stories' main themes is the idea of disconnection, that all these characters have inner turmoil that jags their conversations with everyone else. And that's what I wanted, some 'anger' from me writing Link in a way that people don't like him. Characters are OOC everywhere in this, not one character will honestly be in character.**

 **Twilight Joltik- Sorry about that. Just needed more references and I was running out of female Smashers. Now I'm going to have to resort to assist trophies such as Lyn. Thanks for the compliment, I am pretty unorthodox around here, so I wanted to make my characterization a little odd from the norm. I loved the doll part too. Many abstract things like that just make me want to write about that stuff.**

 **Metroid-Killer- Well, thank you! I'm glad you love it. More on the way!**

 **That's all for now my dear readers. I'll, sometime this weekend start writing Chapter 4: Dinner, Black Dinner. And no, it doesn't refer to skin color, but scorched food. Please review and let me know what you thought, especially of Peach and Link's introductions, for Marth, Samus, and Lucina are all majorly just side, _side_ characters. However, let you know, Robin (F) and Snake shall be introduced next chapter. Love you all! Thanks for reading!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	4. Chapter 4: Dinner, Black Dinner

**Hey everyone, it's Paradigm of Writing here with Chapter 4, or numero cuatro of Teach Me How to Cry. I call it: Dinner, Black Dinner. Hey, I'm in Spanish class. I've got to start somewhere, right? So, last chapter, which I think has been the longest thus far, it focused on the dance that Rosalina told Zelda about, lo and behold she went, bumping into the popular girl and boy of the school, Peach Eona and Marth Lowell. During that fateful evening, Link Scottsdale showed his face. The two chatted, and then promptly kissed when Link tried teaching her how to dance. Today, I've got another two characters ready for you to meet, and I'm super stoked about this chapter, as you're reviews are all great and inspire me to work more. So, thank you for that. Enjoy Chapter 4!**

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Black, putrid smoke, thicker than the smog in San Francisco, flooded the Scottsdale kitchen. Link rolled his eyes, watching his mother dash to and fro from the kitchen to the pantry, then leap to the stove, remembering that something more than likely was burning merely five feet from her. He loved his mother, given her odd eccentricities and wishes, Robin Scottsdale was more decent than half of the caretakers he's come to know.

Standing at an astute height of 5'5, and with pallid hair gleaming with the radiance of a snowstorm, Robin Scottsdale exuberated the presence of a housewife. From the apron constantly wrapped around her waist, one from the seventies with a dotted floral pattern in an array of violet and pink flowers, to her warm mahogany eyes that spoke of home without even uttering a word. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, crazy strands shooting out like sperm dancing in the rain. A heavy clanging of pots and pans drew Link up from his History textbook, his pencil hesitant and hovered precariously above his paper as if it'd explode.

Robin strode into the dining room, if it was able to even called that. One simple table, painted an edgy obsidian, sat under a chandelier that had four of its six light bulbs completely burned out. Link moved his book out of the way so a fine china plate could be placed at his seat, his mother's seat, and if he came home in time, his father's seat. Robin wiped her hands on the apron.

"I can't keep the stew warm much longer. It's starting to stick. The vegetables to the pot, the pot to the stove... I swear it. Everything sticks on this blasted stove," she rambled, to no one in particular. She blinked, noticing for the first time that evening that her son was preoccupied and didn't have time to complicate himself with her idiotic issues. "Oh, you're doing your homework. I'm sorry if I interrupted your train of thought, dear."

"That's okay." Link mumbled.

"I'll try to make less noise," she offered. "This cheap kitchenware makes the worst racket of any we've had. Dinner has never been the same ever since your father declared he should be a peddler. Is that word even used anymore? I call him a peddler because that's what he is, you know. People don't just get up and move every year because of new 'clientele' that doesn't actually exist... and he drags us along thinking its just fine and dandy when it's not..." Robin groaned to herself. Her son simply rolled his eyes once more, flipping the page, immersed in the study of the American Constitution. Robin tried another jab at formal conversation. "It's awful that you have no decent place to do your homework. You shouldn't have to do your homework in the dining room, with the kitchen being only a door length from your chair. Families need to eat in respectable quarters, not shabby, dilapidated places."

That caused him to look up. "I don't mind it. Besides, our house is _not_ dilapidated."

"Well, you should mind it! I raised you better than that, Link Russo Scottsdale! That's how its started," Robin huffed, thwacking her son upside the head with a table napkin. "People saying stupid things like that is how the rest of the world falls apart, honey. Inch by inch, we drive all values away from the comfort of our brain. We start getting less and less out of life, and you don't want that. Our lives are meant to be filled with enjoyment, prosperity, and... and beauty. Not terror, scraping by, and ugliness. Link, don't you ever settle for the _lesser_ things in life, understand me? You deserve the best! Someday, that'll happen!"

Robin Scottsdale, bless her and the motherly instincts she carried... she needed to stop reading the paper. It declined her mental state quite a bit if all of her sayings were played back to back in sequential order.

Link closed his History book, his mother's actions warranting a response from him. "The stew smells good. Probably one of the more tantalizing ones we've had yet."

She fluttered back into the kitchen, got in the mindset of a housewife once again. "I put a lot of bay leaf in it to drown out the smell of garlic from next door. Bay leaf is no kind of weapon against Italians. But, thank you dearie! I appreciate the fact that my cooking is somewhat decent. Tonight it is a mixture of pork, black beans, and chopped peppers."

"Are you talking about the Hannity's? If so, their kid-Luigi-is in our class. He's okay. Some nasty rumor was spread by the lead girl of the school... Peach Eona, I think. Said to be that Luigi tried killing himself last year or something. Rather nasty if you ask me."

Robin returned to the dining table, letting the stove heat up the meal for the night. Her voice sounded pained. "Don't say 'kid', Link. Sounds demeaning. I am also sure there are more attractive words than okay to be used as well, since you're telling me of this evil joke that has been played on the poor boy. Speaking of better words... don't you have a book of synonyms somewhere with you?"

"You mean a thesaurus?"

"Yes. Where is it?"

"Don't remember."

She paused, dabbing the sweat of her palms onto her pant legs. "Link, there's something I've been meaning to speak to you about," she hesitated, biting her lip. Robin searched his face for any sign of emotion, anything at all to gauge her next statement. Very confidentially, she continued with, "You know... and I hate to mention this word at this time, but... the bathroom is _no_ place to read. Never. It's not a gentleman thing to do."

Link eyed his mother tersely. "It's not a community one, in this house, last time I checked."

"All I know is that you go in there and you lock the door. You lock it quietly, but I can hear you locking it. My ears don't fool me. I just want you to know that there is no reason to retreat away with your literature. It is meant to be enjoyed! Out in the open, with an open window... gentle breeze and warm sun cloud shining over you- why that atmosphere is wonderful to have when reading... and you should try it sometimes. I like that you read. Lord knows that I failed to realize that in my youth. A writer, regardless of whether or not it's poetry or fiction, you need to read. I get that. Whenever you go to immerse yourself in writing, do not use the bathroom. It is something only mothers can understand." Robin patted her son's hand.

"Okay?" he raised an eyebrow, honestly not seeing the point whatsoever.

"Do you hide your books from your father? Is that why?"

"No."

"You do realize... Daddy would be extremely proud knowing that you use your time wisely. He wouldn't object to it. Part of it would be because he's your father, and the other half is that he probably wouldn't understand it anyways, no matter how we tried. Some people are lost causes," Robin chuckled, placing a hand to her mouth in laughter. "I think your Dad is too far gone."

Link shook his head in dissent. "It isn't that. I could care less about what Dad would say about me reading."

"Well, then what is it? Why _do_ you lock the door?"

"I must've gotten in the habit."

"Habit?"

"Yes, mother. Habit. You know, something you do without thinking about it because it is second nature to you?"

"Sure, I suppose," Robin said, blinking. "As your mother, I'd like to tell you in a firm manner, that is a habit you should try to get out of. Besides, what would the kids at school think with you reading in the bathroom? Just because we move like animals that migrate does not mean our dignity must suffer because of it! I-" she stopped, sniffing the air. Her eyes widened in alarm, the matriarch of the Scottsdale home leaping to her feet. "Oh heavens! The stove! The food on it is burning. We must eat it now."

"Burned food is better than no food." Link supplied.

She ignored him. "I tell your Dad... if he'd just call someone to fix that damned thing, I wouldn't have to go buy new ones every four days. That's what I want for you, son. Thinking about it hard enough, I'd love for you to have a house, a house that contains a study. There'd be leather furniture, and wooden paneling. The house would be fixed somewhere in the woods, so during winter, the snow would kiss the ground like a phantom and melt at the first sight of Spring. It'd be lovely, waking up to a frozen wonderland, now wouldn't it? There'd be a high, high ceiling. One that would require the world's tallest ladder just to reach it. Should you have children, they'd think the place would be a mansion owned by the Great Gatsby or something."

"A mother can dream, can she not?"

"Yes. That is correct."

Robin turned the stove off in the kitchen, taking the pot and returning to the table. Link held out his plate, watching as four bulbous red potatoes tumbled down like Jack and Jill onto his plate. Robin set herself some, then placed the pot back on the stove, hoping the placed warmth of the burners would waft into the metal pot. Clutching the container of beef stew, she poured about a third of the container into the two paper bowls placed next to the plate of potatoes.

Link frowned. "Mother... what would I do in that study?"

"Why, you'd write of course!" she replied, taking off the apron, discarding it into a ball against the floor.

"I- I don't think I could write, just sitting in a room. Wouldn't I get lonesome, all by myself? Hell, my thoughts are entertaining to an extent whenever I get into the mood, but for my whole life to be doing that? It'll drive me insane."

"That's just because you haven't had a decent room to write in, actually."

The front door to the house opened, and in stepped the patriarch of the family. Snake Scottsdale was home. The man, of around 6'1, was red in the face and flushed. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck, a lining of sticky syrup coagulating his fingertips from a sale he had made earlier in the day. His sharp hawkish eyes, the color of sandstone, brightened visibly at the sight of his wife and son. Snake tossed a rag over his shoulder, sitting down at the table. In their home, he didn't need to come in announced. It was his home, so he was allowed to come and go however he pleased.

"Hello." he greeted.

"Nice to see you." Robin smiled, kissing him on the mouth across the table. Link gently pulled his plate closer to him so saliva and lipstick droplets wouldn't decorate his spotless china.

"I was just finished chatting with the HOA of the neighborhood," Snake gamely stated. "Bunch of bastards they are, I tell you," Then, with regarded distance, "Hello, Link."

"Hi Dad." Link said lamely back.

"I hope you weren't rude to him," Robin sighed. "Mr. Knight does an excellent job of making sure that this neighborhood is in prime condition. Were you pressuring just like you are with your customers?"

"Dear, I think we'd be living on the streets should I act like that to my superiors."

"Whatever you say," she snidely shot back. "Dinner is on the stove."

"I've been starving all day, and I knew I was in for a surprise when I walked through the door," Snake said, getting up without resentment. He went to the stove, plate and bowl in hand. He ladled the serving spoon in his right hand, the left moving animatedly as he spoke. "I made sure he knew this issue that I have with the whole system, the association and all. The trouble with these places is... they don't care. There are rigid laws pushed on homeowners, and whenever the cries are echoed out, the restrictions get tighter. Soon, us denizens can't breathe."

"Not the best analogy to use..." Link muttered, averting eye contact with his father.

Snake continued, as no one was correcting him otherwise about the subject of the HOA and their stupid regulations. "Nobody cares about anything anymore. I can remember the time when we were allowed to all have different color schemes on our houses, and not just one stupid shade that looked like putrid vomit. The board would be delighted to let us keep it, if we paid something feasible. Now... we get charged asinine amounts to repaint the whole house, and we are required to add four coats each season and things like that... asinine I say. The smaller the town, the worse it gets. So, in turn, I gave him a piece of my mind. Not just about the walls either. That toilet has been flooding for nearly three days, and that fuc-"

Robin winced. "Snake, not at the table. Please."

He ate heartily. "There are certain necessities in life, R, that we must-"

"Link, pass your father the potatoes."

The son happily obliged. " _When don't I_?" he thought sarcastically to himself.

Snake frowned, thinking of an uncritical observation. "You should cook the potatoes in the skins, R. My mother always cooked them in the skins. It's where the food value is."

"Food value isn't everything. There are other values in life, too. We loose value of them all the time and we got lost in the track of things-"

The husband of the two overrode her completely, cutting her off midsentence. "How's school, kiddo?" he asked, biting a piece of beef, nodding to Link.

"Okay, I guess." he replied.

Snake reverted to the old conversation, as if his son didn't even respond. "Anyways, these places are only a stop. A gap in our daily excursions, if I am to be eloquent," he guffawed. "When we have our own home and settle down, and we have an issue with something... such as the plumbing, air conditioning, phone service, then we'll fix it ourselves! I'll pass the lawn duties onto Link. I'm sick of the lawn, and my back is sick of the lawn myself."

"Will we have that garden Mom has always been asking for?" Link asked, picking apart a potato.

"Garden?"

Robin sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Those flower boxes I've been requesting, Snake. Those. Speaking of them, _did_ you pick them up?"

"Flower box?"

" _Great. I've got a dolt for a father_." Link rolled his eyes.

"You said you'd pick it up today," Robin drawled on. "I spoke to Mr. Knight and he said that it wouldn't bother him one bit. He'd vouch a petition to allow gardens in the neighborhood, actually. It would look nice from the outside, he said. Draw in more buyers."

"He cares about the outside all right," Snake spat, his hand crumpling the napkin in his left fist. "Get them in the house, I've heard him preach that to the masses, R. We buy them, then Mr. Knight comes in and ruins them. But, because you insist, I'll get the flower boxes tomorrow. I just was pretty busy today."

"You say that, and then you forget. I've been keeping count, darling!"

"I said I'll get them," he growled. "You can count on it! I got busy! That's human nature. Things come up, you know. Life has never been our own, not for a long time. It's not like I'm sitting on my ass in an office," At this, Robin slammed her fork against her plate, her eyes bulged and angry. He sighed. "All right. My _behind_. But, you've gotta understand me! A salesman has to keep on the go."

"You're not a salesman! You're a demonstrator, Snake!" Robin shrilled.

"What's the difference? I demonstrate the items, and then I on the flipside sell them. I can't, for the life of me see why that term irritates you so-"

"We will not argue in front of Link!"

"What is he? A china doll? Grow up," Snake sneered. He pointed his fork at his son, who sat obediently and quite amused at the spectacle. "Tell your mother, once and for all. I'm a salesman. S-A-L-E-S-M-A-N. Salesman. They are real people, and it _is_ a real job. It is a perfectly fine position in the economic world. I have nothing to be ashamed of. Except from the fact that I'm a rotten salesman. Lousy, I tell you!"

Link opted to have this be his two cents, regardless of their impact. "What the hell Dad? Why does it even matter?"

"Sure, what the hell! I like the way you think!" Snake replied in relish, grinning manically.

Robin stood up. "There you go-both of you. Using such foul language at the dinner table. Sometimes, I-I just..." the wife of the house was at a loss for words, standing tirelessly at the window of the dining room.

Snake pushed back from his seat, resigned and penitent. "Robin..." he soothed, rubbing her arms. "Listen. I'm sorry, okay? I'll get you two flower boxes, and I'll get them tomorrow. Ten. All you want, actually."

"I only want one." she replied, distant and blank.

"I'll get you the biggest one in the joint. Err... store."

"I only want one that will fit the window." Robin said quietly.

"I'll measure it tonight. Now, come and finish the stew. It's quite swell," he offered, sitting back down. She complied, ruffling her napkin and eating soundlessly again. "Say, I had a mightily interesting occurrence today. I finally got to see Doctor Eona. After three visits and somewhat a million phone calls. There must be one bucket load of sickness in this town. After I lined myself up with the patients, and marched in after listless hours... there he was. I introduced myself, giving him my last name and the like. Said that my boy Link goes to school with your daughter, Peach, is it? I laughed, joking that he might've seen you around her house. Doctor Eona shot that one down faster than a kid playing that old Duck Hunt game, I tell you. Said you haven't ever been at their house. He doesn't even know you."

"That's because I haven't been over to her house." Link explained bluntly.

"Why haven't you? She's pretty, isn't she?"

"Yes, but she's taken. The most popular boy in the world is her boyfriend."

"You need to chomp at the bit, boy, I'm telling you. The Eona's are very important in this town. You should take Peach to a show some night. Linky, I'll back you."

"Do not call him Linky." Robin breathed into her plate.

"I hardly even know her." Link shrugged.

"How about her friends?" Snake questioned.

"Not many. I haven't gotten all too friendly yet with many of the kids. Half of them are either stupid, stuck up, or a horrifying mixture of both."

"But, what about that dance you went to a couple of weeks ago? Nothing came out of that?"

"Does something always have to come of things? Leave him alone, Snake." Robin sighed wearily.

"No harm getting friendly with the right people."

"That's the problem" Link rubbed his forehead. "These kids aren't the right people."

"A man should get by on his own merits. My father always got by on his own merits." Robin pointed out to her husband.

He frowned. "That much is true. He had a lot of merits, your father."

"He was a great and brilliant man." she agreed, placing her chin in her hands, reminiscing about old memories of her family.

Link balled his napkin, dropping it in his bowl. "If you'll excuse me..."

"Where are you going?" Robin asked.

"No place. I'm just finished."

"Perhaps you shouldn't eat so quickly. It isn't polite."

"I'll keep that in mind next time, I promise you Mother." Link nodded. Grabbing a book off of a shelf next to the table, not bothering to check the spine for the title, he started for his bedroom.

Snake stopped him. "Hold on a minute, Link. This is for your own good, what I'm about to say," There was an inclined pause. "You've got to learn to speak up. Introduce yourself and make some friends for once. They are the most valuable asset a man can have."

"He has some friends," Robin gently applied the damage control. "He goes to places in the afternoons, returning by the time the evening rolls around."

"You keep telling me he does. He's never home anymore. Link, where do you keep yourself? If you don't know Peach Eona all to well, nor the friends she has... then who _do_ you hang out with?"

"One of them is a girl named Zelda."

"Zelda who? What's her father do?"

"Zelda Miranda," Link elaborated. "Her father used to be-"

Robin smacked the table with a hand. "Zelda Miranda! Why, she hasn't got any father to her name, not one! That girl... there's something wrong with her mother."

"Such as?" Snake pressed for details.

"For one thing, she's crazy!"

Snake set down his knife and fork. "She's _what_? Crazy?"

"It was a terrible scandal. Mr. Knight said so. No one has ever forgotten it. Had something to do with a bandstand some place out on the edge of town on a hill or something. The whole town used to go there-and this girl's mother, she wasn't married. During the Spring, numerous times, she was seen hanging around with a man. Late, sometimes where the breaks of dawn would be breaching the sky, they'd go. Did unpleasant things, Mr. Knight said. This man deserted her, and she went off with her head. A few months later, the bandstand burned down. They never knew who did it, but they had their suspicions. Then the girl had the baby, and started calling herself Mrs. Miranda. She isn't even married. Got knocked up by some fool and was left to pick up the pieces." Robin explained.

The husband made the mental connections. "And that's who Link's been..." he snapped his head towards his son. "How often have you been seeing this Zelda?"

"Every day," Link answered. "She's in my graduating class. We have a few periods together, as well."

"Have you been seeing her outside of class?"

"Yes."

"Where."

"Around. In the park. We walk-"

"Did you know about her background before getting to know her?" Robin asked gently.

Link shook his head defiantly, nose high in the air, arms crossed, expression stern. "There's nothing wrong with Zelda."

Snake slapped the table, briefly stepping into the role as an enraged patriarch. "Like mother, like daughter! What did you expect her to be? _Normal_? Like us?"

"Link does like to be broadminded..."

"Oh, does he now?"

"Yes, he does. But what you don't understand, Link, is that it's her entire background-of this Zelda girl-that we're worried. This-this Mrs. Miranda came from a very sordid family. I heard all about that too, from Mr. Knight. Her mother committed suicide- and her father," Robin's voice got caught in her throat, a choking vice. "Her father was an awful man. Awful. A drunkard. He was a terrible, terrible person. When a girl has that sort of family behind her, you can just know the kind of person she is!"

"I know the kind of person Zelda is, she's not insane!" Link pleaded, rather desperate.

"I hope you're not going to be stubborn about this. Link, a boy with a background like yours... why the error that can come from this type of interaction is catastrophic to your name. Why, your grandfather would simply die!"

"He's _already dead_. News flash Mother, you said he died twelve years ago."

"Don't be rude to your mother," Snake snarled. "You are extremely hard on your mother. Least you can be is polite."

"No one has to bother being polite," Robin asserted. "I just want your word on the fact that you'll never see this girl again. Pleasantries during school are fine, I don't want you completely ignoring her. But, if it is not absolutely necessary, after school you are banned from meeting this Zelda Miranda. Do I make myself clear?"

Link gave a slight pause. "Yes."

"Do you mean that?" Snake prodded.

"Yes, he does. Snake, he gave me his word. No other statement is more provincial, a word of a son to his mother. He's a man of his honor. He comes from an honorable family. And Link, don't be mad at us. We're just giving you our guidance. We wouldn't be proper parents doing our duty if we neglected that. You understand, don't you?" She hugged him.

Link broke away, fiercely. "Sure. I understand." he said coldly. He strode off, muttering obscenities and other words to foul for the table.

Snake watched his son exit the dining room, almost wearily. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on inside that kid. Sometimes I just can't figure him. Pass the butter, will you?"

Robin promptly handed her husband the caloric grease. "It's the kind of life he has to lead. One place after another." She sank down into her chair, full of discouragement.

Snake buttered up a potato. "Why does he always have to pick such queer companions? Every town has its nuts, and trust me, Link knows how to find them. He finds them quite well. You remember, back in Washington, that moth-eaten old professor he used to visit? Came home and started talking about vacuum cleaners and ghosts... who the hell was it?"

"Dr. E. Gadd." Robin remembered, shuddering at the thought.

"If my son is going to become interested in doctors, you'd wonder why he wouldn't pick the important ones. Take Dr. Eona for example. Have the girl Peach Eona all to himself, take her out. Get in the swing of things."

Robin stood, parting into the kitchen to do the dishes. "You always expect him to get into the best homes. I don't know why you have to be so critical."

"Why not? He's got decent manners, learning them from me. You buy him nice outfits."

"He'll start meeting the right people when he has a home to invite them to, not before."

"Is that all friendship means to people these days? The kind of home a boy's got?"

Robin clung to the dishcloth with pathetic longing, trying to hold back tears with fierce effort. "It'll be nice for us too, Snake. When we get a house. I don't think I want plaster and brick walls anymore. I've changed my mind. I'd like a Spanish stucco, in a sunny kind of color. Light yellow. With a portico."

"A what?" Snake furrowed his eyebrows.

"Portico," she repeated. "It's a kind of porch. It would be so lovely to grow flowers in. I wondered what was depressing me lately, and I decided it was that brick house. It would be way too dark inside, outside as well thinking about it... Never enough sun for flowers. It's springtime, you see, and that's what got me thinking about it. The very thing you dismiss. There's a lovely picture in one of my magazines about it, actually. I'll show you." Robin crossed the table, leaning down to the bookshelf that held Link's own books, searching feverishly for the magazine.

Snake stood. "Robin, don't."

Robin straightened herself, back rigid, muscles tense, not facing him. "Don't what?"

"Don't bring out the pictures, please." he replied, heartsick.

She broke away from the bookshelf, turning slowly. A lone tear slid down her cheek. "Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?"

"I don't want- I don't want anything. Isn't there any way we could learn to be content?"

"Content... content with what?"

"With what we've got," Snake said imploringly. "It isn't that much, but it's all we're ever going to have. Robin, we're not going to have a house. You-you'd be happier if you could get that through your head. We'll never get a house."

Robin strode forward, her voice low and terrible. "Snake, don't you ever say that again." She clenched her fists, slamming them down on the table. Bitter tears streamed down her cheeks, her throat burning with each raw scream. "Don't! You! Ever! Say! That! AGAIN!"

Snake hushed her with a quiet kiss, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Darling... darling... darling, stop crying!"

Needless to say, in the Scottsdale home, after that dinner, the two of them looked at the pictures.

For the hundredth time in a row, their dinner was black. The Scottsdale family ate a dinner, a black dinner.

It was black with depression.

Black with phobias of never experiencing pleasure.

All was not well.

As long as their dinner would stay black, _things_ would never get better.

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 **Wow! That felt great to get out of my system! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, understanding all the references within and that my characters pleased you for 5000 words of your time. Sorry about the break I took from this story, I have school, and sometimes this does drain more than the feeling in my fingers.**

 **Mikaela- Look at you, writing criticism! Wasn't terrible, was it? Trust me, I hate popular boy clichés too, and here I am writing one for a girl and a guy. Rather backwards, huh. Glad to know you like Link's character! Who do you like more though, at this stage in the game? Zelda or Link? Personally I love Zelda's more, as she is the central character of this story, but it works well too.**

 **Alakazam2192- I am glad you made an exception! I am always looking for more critiques than I can handle, so this was very welcoming. Thanks for the compliment. I am positive that whenever you start posting, I'll be saying the same thing about your work and how good it'll be, because I just know that it will. I understand the whole dialogue thing, and I think I lightened it up some for this chapter. Hopefully it worked.**

 **FireEmblemNerd0909- Link is smooth! And Zelda did hate his guts! But, think of Zelda's backstory. This is her first time experiencing anything somewhat romantic, anything at all. She doesn't know how to react.**

 **ExodiusLK- I'll gladly stand back when I write a certain something about Marth. Duly noted.**

 **Metroid-Killer- I love writing cliffhangers! Glad you're hooked. Anything else specific that you can comment? Anything critical?**

 **That's all for this go around. Next chapter is going to be #5: Bitter Tears. We'll have Zelda reemerge on the scene again, and I'm extremely stoked. I'll try, but please don't crucify me if I don't... but I'm shooting for a Friday-Saturday update. I just typed this chapter in one evening, from 7:32-9:41 so I'm tired. Thanks for reading! Please review, let me know what you thought! Have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening depending on where you are in the world. Love you all! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	5. Chapter 5: Bitter Tears

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here back again to grace the white computer screen with chapter numero cinco of Teach Me How to Cry, Bitter Tears. Last chapter was quite an interesting one, dealing with Link's parental structure- Snake and Robin. Snake is a patriarchal idiot who knows what's best for his family but has no idea on how getting around to it... and Robin is the epitome of a dawn that never comes during a cold winter. Link is somewhat the offspring of these, two... and he's been told to never see Zelda again after school. Now, let's be real. You know that's not going to happen with me being the writer of this story. Enjoy Chapter 5!**

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The night was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of the crickets hidden beneath the emerald gale of grass that decorated the hills. The infamous bandstand, once called the crown jewel of the town stood on the hill, impervious in all of its infamous glory. The area reeked of smoke, tense and thick that it choked all passing the residence. Save for the delicate moon, which hung in the sky on a cradle of stars, the surrounding vicinity was empty... save for two individuals doing an absolutely terrible job of making themselves less noticeable.

Link Scottsdale cussed, getting his leg entangled in a rose bush. The prickly thorns stabbed his skin, drops of scarlet blood dripping to the cobblestone pathway leading up to the front door. Slowly lifting a leaf off the ground, he brushed the smearing cardinal liquid from his skin, hoping to not cast it on his companion. The air was cold, one could expect that given the season the area was nearing, which was autumn.

What used to be the town's life, now stood dark and empty in front of Link. The mood was lonely and desolate... nothing exciting happened here for over a millennia it seemed. A couple trees that still stood seemed pitiful compared to the hill which was in full bloom before the chilling snow would take it away. Leaves drooped and collected on the ground, amid flower petals and pieces of trash. The bandstand was one of odd detail- beautiful yet alone on the outside, and horrifyingly disgusting on the inside.

The door creaked open, practically almost falling off of its hinges. Link stood in the doorway, coughing as the dust settled. Swatting the clouds of annoyance away, Link was more surprised than anything to see that one little lamp light was still on, flickering and swaying ever so slightly above the entrance. He turned around, the door blocking his frame of view.

"Here. This looks like the entryway." he called.

Zelda's timid voice replied back, getting closer with each accentuation. "I'm scared."

Link scoffed, pushing himself in further. The bandstand was rather small, despite what the locales had said about it. Perhaps the fire that engulfed it took away much of the building. Seemed to have left all of the possessions however, as if they weren't necessary. A dusty piano, one that seemed to be deserted before even the creation of the world, sat in the far right corner, smashed uncomfortably against a formidable stage, black and ominous. A single piece of paper sat on the head of the piano, must've been sheet music.

"Yeah, we found the old coot all right." Link hugged his sides tight, trying to have his coat spread even warmth among his bones.

"Please, we-" Zelda started from the doorway, appearing on the scene with a slow shuffle.

Link grabbed her by the hand, pulling her forward. "Oh, come on silly. You were the one who wanted to come."

She, although trying to hold off the intruding action, slid on by her heels. A lone notebook was clutched desperately in her hand. "Link, we shouldn't."

"Shouldn't what?"

"Come here."

"Why not? It's only a place," Link shrugged his shoulders, brushing off Zelda's shoulder. "It happens to be old, burned to death, and run down. Completely fine. I bet nothing happens here," he smiled cheerfully. "I bet you my next A on my math test that there aren't any ghosts here. All in the imagination."

"For someone who writes, little imagination you have," Zelda said slyly. She shuddered. " _I_ tell you, something else is here. It frightens me, like needles slowly scraping down my back."

Link made his way over to the piano, frowning under the cascading dark. His fingers graced the keys, a jingle echoing from the musical instrument. " _It still works..._ " he thought excitedly. The composition placed on the dash, although hard to make out, seemed to be a Mozart piece. Despite his lack of musical knowledge, the work seemed complicated. "Do many people come by here? I remember Peach talking about some rumor awhile back. At the dance, I think that a guy and girl came here. Did undesirables... How often-"

"No. Hardly anyone. And we shouldn't be here either. It's a terrible place," Zelda cut him off, glaring. She hated her will, one minute she wanted to do something, the next she was running like a flapped ostrich, scared out of her wits. "I never said I wanted to be _here_. Outside on the hill is fine, if it troubles you. Don't put words in my mouth. Or... anything else for that matter."

She was referring to the kiss, the intimate moment the two shared on the night of the homecoming dance. For the next week, it puzzled and tortured her brain, desperate to search for an answer on why he kissed her, and why she didn't break apart the moment he advanced towards her. Link didn't dare try again, but then again, he hadn't given her a straight response to her question.

Link made a deliberate attempt at showing his exasperation, sighing heavily and running a gloved hand across his forehead. "Listen, I told you what my parents said. I am not allowed to see you outside of school. Of course I'm not going to listen to them. It's an asinine assumption to make, girl like mother. This is the only place in town where we can hang around without anyone tattling on us or something stupid like that."

"Why did they say you couldn't see me? Why does my mother have anything to do-"

"It's just them," he said, his voice full of lost reasoning. "My parents don't like to be associated with anything out of the norm, and they feel that you and your mother are like that. Evil, the way they talked about you at dinner... But, like I told you, we can't be together around town. Where else could we meet up without getting in trouble. I gave my mother a word of honor, one I intend to keep. Although seeing you like this may not be the best way to uphold it, I have no other option."

Zelda shuffled a foot awkwardly, knowing full and well what his parents may have said about her. _Awkward girlie... never hang out with her. Queer friend_. List could go on and on. "My fear has not been calmed, if that's a roundabout way of asking me. I pictured this place being an absolute disaster."

"How did it catch on fire?"

"I don't know."

"You don't? I'm surprised... I would've thought your mother would've told you how. No one else I've asked will give me a complete explanation. The adults in this town are so senseless," Link muttered, shaking his head in stupefaction. "Someone must know. Someone has to."

"People used to whisper about it all the time. Had to have been something disastrous. A lit match going askew... spilled over lamp that shatters on a carpet... anything is possible with a building like this. I was younger, when the gossip ceased to exist. Never got to here more than incoherent bits and pieces."

"Did you tell your mother about me?"

"No, I didn't." Zelda looked down at her hands.

He took a step towards her, which caused her to step back. In her eyes, he seemed menacing and maniacal. "You did, didn't you?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I felt terrible doing so, but she constantly questioned me over tea and I couldn't help it. She doesn't like when I go out with boys. Reminds herself of when she had me, the pain that had been endured with my father. I can't blame her, my heart aches whenever I think about it," Zelda bit her lip. "She also told me something about your family- said that your dad is despicable. Is something so dreadfully wrong about being a salesman?"

"Apparently so. Ask my mom, she'll tell you all about it," Link said bitterly, averting his gaze. "But, besides the point, I brought you to the bandstand for one reason. Only place in town we can be together after school without getting caught. You and I will come here together every day till my parents change their minds. I've got it all figured out." He tapped his head, smirking slightly. Genius plan. If it came from the mind of Link Scottsdale, it must've been brilliant.

"What will we do?"

"We'll talk. And just be holding company for one another. Best medicine there is. Laughter is overused." Link smiled. He approached the stage from the front, testing the steps hesitantly to see if they'd hold his weight or buckle.

Zelda strode forward, accepting his hand up. "And you could hear my lines?"

"Do you have the whole scene memorized? The one between you and the Beast?"

"I've got the whole play in my head. Got the script four days ago, and I alternated between tea time and the book. Little to nothing in my days are spent with heavy work, so there was much time to do it all," she answered dreamily. "But, the scene you're indicating is the one I need to audition with. The best scene in the play."

"This stage would be the ballroom?"

Zelda tiptoed backwards, holding out a hand to an imaginary actor in front of her. She giggled. "I wish you were in the play."

"I'll sit in the front row every night!" Link grinned, going back down the stairs to sit on a bench placed right in front of the stage. He watched her, eyes full of assuring admiration.

"But the rest of the audience, I won't know them. They'd all be staring at me, wide eyed and mouths half open in horror at my performance, wouldn't they?"

"That's never going to happen. As long as I'm there, and that you _know_ I am there, it'll go swell," Link corrected her. "Zelda."

She blinked. "What?"

"I was just saying your name. It has a nice sound, almost mythical. I think that Zelda is a prettier name. More beautiful than Belle."

Zelda's voice dropped low, dark and depressing. "I _don't_. I think my name is terrible."

"You love that word. Terrible, I mean. Just, I hope you realize that a name isn't so very important. I knew a guy once, called Doctor. Literally, that was his name. People ridiculed him to death, jeering the Looney Toons joke and gag down the hallway every day, every day. Almost killed himself, with a hanging noose. He wasn't a doctor. The medicine field was not his expertise. Much more of a history major. That was his name, Doctor Mario. Poor guy. Least yours is Zelda, one of your own. Wonder why mother chose mine?"

"No. It's simple."

"Link. Wanted to share a lovely bond with her and I. The _link_ between us is strong and is what any parent would want to have with their child. Thought it'd be cute to play a corny joke on me as a kid, sharing a name with an insurance company," he snorted. "As you can tell, my mother is a major fail on the subject of _humor_."

"Do you want to be a poet for a living?"

"No," Link frowned. "That wouldn't seem ideal for my family. They don't make too much money. Need to have waterfalls of green paper, not just meager puddles."

"Do you want to make a lot of money? I don't mean anything by it," Zelda asked. "Just curious."

"That's not why. More than likely, my wife is going to want a lot of money. Probably so she can just bathe in my riches and be a disgusting housewife. That sickens me, if I am to be frank. Why marry someone only based on what their income is? Can't love support a marriage alone? Isn't that the prime reason for getting together... You can just wonder what thoughts run through people's heads at night when they're in love for the wrong reasons."

"But, if you feel that way... why you would fall in love with someone like that? Seems rather backwards."

"Because I'd want to, I suppose." Link shrugged.

A crashing, rickety bolt of lightning rocketed the bandstand, followed by a ghastly boom of thunder. Coming down like a cloud from heaven, a light _plit plat_ trembled off of the roof, rain drops harmoniously falling to the ground. Zelda tensed, slow surges of memories back at her house from the months before resurfacing, expecting a sickening slap from her mother for even suggesting that the windows be open at a time like this.

"It's raining. It's an odd thing," she said, speaking for the assurance of knowing her voice still worked. Sometimes, storms seemed to scare her. "Do you like the rain?"

"I don't mind it, being perfectly honest."

A inner intensity surged from inside of Zelda's soul, her eyes lighting up with a fierce fire. "I love it. I love the rain better than anything in the world. Moreso than my mother's tea, which is tantalizing in of itself. Going out amid the liquid state is also enjoyable, the splashes down my back and how my hair turns a putrid shade of an underwater abyss deep in the Pacific... sometimes I don't know what my life would be like without rain. During the night, if there is a storm, I'll sit by my window and just listen to it. A simple tick tock in my head, metronomic notes that bounce back and forth in my skull. There is always a strengthening desire in me to go out in it."

"I wonder why."

"Because it's raining," she replied simply. "I pretend things. Silly of me to do, I realize," Zelda looked down at her hand. "Sometimes I pretend I'm with a friend. I've imagined you being by my side, actually. Gives me a strange sense of comfort, knowing someone is holding on to me and never letting go."

"My father says that having friends is an asset. He's great on friends and how to get them," Link explained. "Irony is... he doesn't have any. He terrifies them all away, having them run and scream the Oregon Trial whilst hiking the Appalachians on a goat. My father has made people do irrational things in his lifetime. Odd fellow. I can assume I'm no better."

"Peach has a lot of friends."

Link's voice was cold, iron solid with bitter contempt. " _No_ _,_ she doesn't. She hasn't got a single one. How could she? The way Peach Eona acts is abominable, like an animal that thinks they're the head of the kingdom when it turns out that everyone else was really just laughing at you. She is afraid of losing them. Marth is wrapped around her finger so tight, not even scissors can cut that monstrous bond. Peach Eona has no friends. She's a loner. And don't lie to me either, you know it's true."

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut, letting his words pass over her like water on a rock. _Just block it out of your head, and everything will be okay_. "I believe, once, although it may have been too long ago to remember... my mother had a friend once. A really strong friend. But, she lost him."

"Sad to hear that. Whenever someone is dropped from your life, it's not easy to reciprocate. I would know. It happens to me a lot."

"All the time, when I was a little girl... my mom would sit in the entryway of our house and wait for the mailman. She refused to send things by text messages or phone calls. Emails never really clicked in her brain either, so the natural way to communicate was by letter. My mother didn't like driving, made her nervous with so many people being on the road. A letter my mom had written was sent out once, and it never returned to her. She thought the mailman did it, caused the letter to sent somewhere else other than its destination. Chased him throughout the house and all the way to the park. My mother accuses him, it has _to be his fault_. I am not allowed to really text or call many people unless it is urgent. Writing letters is out of the question, sadly."

"Would you like my number?" Link asked, gentle and full of ameliorated intent.

Zelda paused. "Why would I need it? I'd be seeing you face to face everyday, wouldn't I? Doesn't that mean..." her voice dropped to a whisper. "You'll be leaving one day, won't you? This stay is only interment, isn't it?"

"Maybe."

She didn't answer him, messing with her sleeves. She walked over, at a snail's pace, to the railing pressed into the stage on the right hand side, facing a deserted bar and old, oh so old jukebox. "This railing reminds me of a steep cliff. I think about it, imagining what this type of formation could like in my mind. Brown, craggy... overlooking an ocean. If a person fell down, they'd be killed."

Link joined her on the banister, gently placing a hand around her backside, his right hand resting on her shoulder. "I guess they would."

Zelda straightened herself, a dark thought entering her brain. "Or they were pushed..."

"They could have jumped."

That caused her, the poor Miranda girl, to leap from his grasp, shuddering and full of comatose shock. "That's awful! Sometimes you say that most terrible things!"

"It doesn't hurt to do so, Zelda." Link sighed, unsure of why she changed views so drastically.

"It does! It does!" Her voice was rich in anger.

"Not if they're true."

"What does _true_ mean? How does that make any sense," she sneered scornfully. "You don't understand the words you say, Link Scottsdale. No one would jump off a cliff for death!"

"People do it all the time. It's called suicide. It plagues our nation- no, the world, actually."

"They do it because _they're terrible,_ all of them are _terrible cowards_ , they _don't deserve to live._ " Zelda hissed, face contorted into a bitter scowl.

"Now _you're_ saying terrible things. Everybody deserves the chance to live." Link whispered, not meeting her gaze.

The conversation halted, Zelda pausing to sit on the ground. "I don't..." she said, looking at the bandstand stage in an empty daze. Black ash. It fell around her, consumed her whole.

Link kneeled by her side, voice urgent and caring. "Why do you say depressing things like that? If you like, I could tell you why you say those things."

"I don't want to know!"

"You don't want to know anything, do you? I'll call a spade a spade here, you have no idea who you even are."

"Leave me alone! Just... stop talking to me! You talk and talk and talk, rambling on about the most nonsensical things. It drives me crazy. I can't understand you." Zelda shrilled.

A calming presence rested on Link's shoulders, suddenly humbled. He stood rigidly. "Sure, okay. I'll go away if you want."

"Go on then! As far away as you want! I don't know why we came to this terrible place! That's all there is here- unwanted memories and tales of shit dreams from the past. Nothing good stays here. There aren't any flowers in bloom along the hill... that terrible smell of smoke won't get out of my damn nostrils. It's ugly! Nobody ever visits anymore. No one has reason to come here."

"We came here."

"They were in love, my parents," Zelda said plainly, her eyes lost in a world not of one many could understand. "They listened to the music that was being played here on Friday nights. Koopa and the Kid Gang was what the band was called, ten or eleven members in all. Old tunes from the 50's and vibrant jams from the 80's... this bandstand used to be lovely. I seem to hear those old tunes. They make me want to cry."

Link sat back down on the bench facing the stage. "Then cry, if you are inclined to do so."

Zelda stiffened, her face devoid of emotion. "I never cry."

"I feel that it is just a cover up, one more pathetic excuse of yours as to explain things in your life. You look as if you have tears behind your eyes."

She started to tremble. "I'm cold. It _is_ cold."

"Come and sit down then. We have room, my heart always has room." he offered, outstretching his hands in an open wide gesture, similar to that of a hug.

Zelda sat down next to him, reluctant in her step. "Do you think that my name truly is beautiful?"

"Yes, I do." Link answered truthfully. Although she couldn't tell, his voice was more earnest than when he gave his honor towards his parents on never seeing her.

"But- it can't be as pretty as Belle. Or a Juliet... definitely not. When I... when I- _if_ I get the part, then I am able to play the heroine in fluorescent yellow for two months."

"You won't be her though, hope you realize that."

"What?"

"It's only pretending. For a little while. When the play is over, you'll have to go back to being you. I'd much rather have a real person in front of me than a persona, because what is the meaning in life when you are faking? There's nothing sentimental in that. Zip. Nada."

"I wish I didn't." Zelda whispered, picking at the bench.

The two sat in quiet, listening to the storm. It was a peaceful lull, harmonic and sweet, given that the thunder and lightning had stopped assaulting the sky. "Starting to slow, the rain I mean." Link pointed out, smiling and pointing a finger to the ceiling.

"It's like crying. The sky is crying."

"The sky does indeed know how to cry," he agreed. Another pause. "May I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Funny," he stuck his tongue out at her. "But, I'm serious. Can I?"

"Of course."

"And what will your reaction be?"

"Won't I have to know what you will tell me before I can gauge a response?"

"Fair enough," Link mused. He breathed in heavily. "Is your mother insane?"

Zelda, for the umpteenth time that evening, froze. Her face was of pure horror, aghast shock and dread. "That's- that's a _terrible_ thing to say!" The music playing in her head screeched to a dead hum.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I only want to know."

"Well, then you should know the answer! Of course she isn't!"

"Then, what's the matter with her? My parents seem to have a lot of dirt on Palutena Miranda. That's all they talked about at dinner."

"There _isn't_ anything wrong with my mother! She's-she's perfectly fine! She's just young. Last I checked, there is nothing wrong with being young!"

"An issue can arise when you become old." Link pointed out.

"But my mother isn't old!" Zelda defied hotly, crossing her arms.

"Mothers are old. Look at mine. She's practically washed up. They're old and tired. They get tired after awhile."

"My mother is never tired! I don't know where you get these ideas, but they aren't true! My mother looks after me, and she does a great job at it since I'm healthy and fine in all aspects of life! She's always there, whenever I need her. We talk, talk over tea about the things that trouble us. I can tell her things that happen in my life. I'm also able to ask her whatever I want. Very few adults in my life are like that."

"What things?" Link inquired.

"Anything! Anything at all! She helps me to understand. Doesn't matter what it is, but I learn so much from her. Whenever I'm lonely, I got to my mom. Helps assuage my loneliness, same for my phobias and frights! You don't understand my mother, okay? She didn't birth you, and she sure as hell didn't raise you either! Stop assuming you know everything!" Zelda screeched, putting her face in her hands.

He leaned into her earshot range. "You're crying."

"No, I am not," Zelda sniffed, obviously tearing up. "It is the rain."

"You cry quietly."

"I'm _not_ crying."

Link removed her hands from her face, exposing Zelda's puffy red face, cheeks prime and pink, crystalline tears definitely dotting her skin. He slowly reached out and wiped a finger down her left cheek, catching a tear on the tip of his finger. Tasting his skin, he nodded sullenly, deeply sorry for something. "It's salty. Those are tears alright. You don't cry obnoxiously. Odd. The only way you'd ever truly know the tears is by their taste."

"They dry by themselves."

He hugged her. "They're quiet. That is not good, Zelda, that isn't good. Tears need to burst out, in song, full of malice and harsh intent. They won't be good, useless crying. I will gladly be the testing pillow for your tears."

In the crumbling façade of Zelda Miranda's world, she accepted his offer, leaning in on his shoulder. Tears streamed out, her face buried in his shoulder. Light sobs ripped from her lips, combating the returning bang of lightning and thunder in the sky. Amid the ruins of a burned bandstand, and the collective pile of screwed up memories with Zelda Miranda and Link Scottsdale, she cried.

She cried, cried, and cried.

The tears never stopped flowing.

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 **And there we have it folks! Chapter 5, Bitter Tears has been completed! Don't worry, some characters from past chapters will reemerge in the next two- mainly Peach and Palutena, although I feel that the latter character has more favorites than the former. And, you know I'll be damned if I don't name a chapter of this story with the title Teach Me How To Cry. It's practically begging me to do so.**

 **Luca the Wolf- Thanks for your review, nice to have you aboard! And I'm sorry, all the characters that have been introduced, they are the only ones in the story. Guess we are stuck with Zelda, Link, Palutena, Peach, Marth, Snake, Robin, Rosalina, Lucina, and Samus for the long run.**

 **LightLitAFlame- Family issues are in abundance this season! My few latest stories have been chock full of them. Fun to write about, I guess. I have written Snake x Robin (F) once before, in my SSB drabble series... uhm, Engraved in Stone. Wow, I forgot my own story there. And like I said, Pit won't be this. And relax, he's not the father. Someone totally different. Thanks for the reviews on the chapters so far!**

 **FireEmblemNerd0909- Yep, Link _has those types of parents_. We can only pray for him, right? I think you may want to rework your definition of Zelda's character. She clearly has something 'wrong' with her per say, not everything is aligned just right. Can you figure out any clues based on this chapter?**

 **Metroid-Killer- Thanks for the compliment! People can hate Zelda for a multitude of reasons. Her evil outbursts can be one. I get that your opinion on, well screwing Snake and Robin is well put, others dislike her in this story too,**

 **ExodiusLK- Oh, god, I think I know what SSB fanfiction you're referencing. None of that, no memes here, lol. Typos will be standard in my stories. Everything is straight off the press, and then I go back and edit later. Which reminds me, I need to do that for these chapters. Crap. Yeah, that sperm analogy... I got nothing. Only thing I could think of. And, yeah, Snake being his father was out of the blue, but in my AU's, anything strange and f'd up is possible. Yeah, I speed write. My fingers are killing me though.**

 **Next chapter will be a doozy. Time for prying eyes to take a good glance at our two immature lovebirds. Chapter 6, hopefully arriving this weekend, shall be called Charcoal Stained Chats. With our one and only scene happening here at the glorious bandstand! Thanks for the reviews you guys, keep them coming. It warms my heart whenever I got an email about them, I don't think you have any idea about how much they mean. Thanks for reading guys, and I'll see you this weekend. Love you all! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	6. Chapter 6: Charcoal Stained Chats

**That time has come my fellow fanfiction readers and writers, for the sixth chapter of Teach Me How to Cry! We are back again, now on my new favorite chapter, Charcoal Stained Chats. Last chapter was a gentle one, a simple (well not really _simple_ , but bear with me folks) conversation between Link and Zelda. Since you all responded to that well, I'm going to do another chapter of this, except we'll be having a _third_ character infringing on the scene. Whoops. Uh oh, indeed. Please enjoy Chapter Six!**

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The bandstand looked rather pretty in the basking glow of the sun. The charcoal stains lining the stage flickered like dark spots in the middle of the ocean, one lone figure sitting on it. Birds chirped in the air, a faint sweet scent of honey blowing through the vicinity. Link smiled to himself, running a hand across the coarse wood of the stage. A tiny bird, perhaps a sparrow, flew through the front door, the hinges taken off so a formidable gap was left in its wake. He whistled to it, grinning enthusiastically when the winged creature responding with a crisp tweet, before flying off.

It was Saturday. He was surprised with himself, having called Zelda up that morning that he just had to see her. The bandstand was still the only place that left their secrecy intact, but he couldn't contain his need to have company. Agreeing to meet him at noon, the duo decided that another chat was ample and necessary. With the sun shining in the sky, and average temperatures being the weather for the day, it was a content day.

"How you coming along?" he yelled, his voice carrying into the air.

"I'm almost changed! This dress is honestly annoying..." Zelda's irritated voice answered back, said girl hiding behind the stage, changing into her Beauty and the Beast costume. Auditions for the play were held three days earlier, on a bleak Wednesday. Light snow had fallen from the mountains, butterflies had a weird migration pattern, and it was also the day Zelda Miranda got the role of Belle in the school play.

The girl with a lunatic mother, the one that had a past filled up with controversy... she had done something for herself. Peach Eona, who normally took the leads away with the swipe of her hand... lost. The nasty rumor rippled through school like wildfire, a nasty disease ripe with jealousy and malice intent. The queen of the school didn't dare cause a scene, her name would be tarnished. It was just expected that on opening night, Zelda Miranda would have her downfall.

"That's okay," Link said. "Take your time," He bent down, noticing a violet that stirred in the breeze. "Hey, I found another one! These violets are everywhere today. Wonder where they are blowing from. It's _pink_!"

"What's pink?"

"A violet! I've never seen one before. There is a multitude of white ones, stunning amaranthines and edgy indigos... but never pink. I'll treasure it forever. Perhaps I should write a poem about it..."

"I- I think I'm ready now!" Zelda shouted, full and eager of confidence. Link straightened his clothes, still dressed in his signature olive tunic and hunting boots. He bustled to the bench, anticipated and beaming like a fool. His companion emerged from behind the bandstand stage slowly, as if she was horrific and didn't want to reveal herself to the world. Zelda Miranda was absolutely gorgeous. If she was denied that comment, the person had to have been blind.

Her sepia hair was down, curled and loose against her shoulders. Another petunia was inserted at her left ear, bringing attention to her eyes. The emerald orbs glistened with amiable warmth, and for the first time she could remember, she was smiling. A pretty halcyon dress hugged her waist, orange frills lining the base. She spun around, letting the dress flutter up revealing perhaps too much skin that needed to be seen.

Link clapped his hands together. "Yeah! Marvelous, Zel! You look like... you look like-"

"Come again?"

"That if somebody was sick and they saw you in it, they'd get all better. Call me crazy, but I think I'm in love. The real thing this time."

Zelda blushed. "No one has seen it yet. My mother only finished it last night. I wanted you to see it first. Do I look the way Belle is supposed to look?"

"Yeah. And when you say your lines at rehearsal, you're getting to sound as if you really mean them." Link nodded.

"Oh yes, I'll be meaning them. Even the ones I don't understand. I'll still put all the effort behind it." She walked to the entrance of the bandstand, taking in the aroma and beauty of the outside. It was as if spring decided to switch places with fall. At a mild sixty-five degrees, on a sweltering summer day, tranquility had been achieved in the most unlikely place. Zelda could barely hold in her joyousness, scarcely able to believe it. "Springtime during autumn. It works rather nicely, would you suppose? Smell the lilacs."

Link smiled, her imaginings were cute. "They're miles away."

"The lilacs are sweet still the same. I'd like to press my face in them and smell their scent all day. Why, I'd even drink them," She twirled around, eyes wild and bursting with energy. She was alive. "What is it like to get drunk? Is it an ecstasy trip? Peach mentioned it once. Best time of her life. Yet... she hasn't tried it since then. Oh well. But, how is it? Were you ever drunk?"

"No, and I'm hoping to stay that way. I remember reading a book and writing a paper on the acts of drunk driving. You forget everything. You feel funny. Light tingling, hearing issues... I can imagine that it _may_ be fun. But people die that way."

She shuddered. "It's strange how you feel sometimes. Do you ever feel breathless, as if you've been running, when you haven't even been exercising? Do you? I do. It's terrible. Almost like there's someone sitting on my chest, smashing my sternum into my lungs. It aches, tremendously painful and causes me to yell. I get it at night sometimes. My mother comes running to my aid when that happens, and she hugs me. My mother knows how to soothe me, she does it well. Gives me some syrup and then I'm out like a light. I feel better in the morning. Any weird cases in your life?"

"Yes. Sometimes," Link affirmed. "Once, I fell down the stairs and nearly got a concussion. The kids at school laughed at me, calling me Loose Link and that'll I trip everywhere and one day split my brain open," he whispered, glaring at the ground. "I was maybe nine then. If that happened now, I would've gone out swinging."

Zelda backed up to the stage, pressing a hand to her chest. "I feel breathless. Link..." she blinked, looking at him with a lost helplessness. Then she noticed the violet. "Oh, I see the flower now." She knelt down to it, feeling the heaviness evaporate. "I wonder what the pieces of nature around us think about. For insects, I imagine they laugh whenever we freak out. The clouds must be intrigued, all the strange inventions we send into their personal space. Flowers... I sense sadness. They are beautiful, gorgeous and wonderful in all their glory. Yet we forget about them. Sometimes we trample them. That must hurt, being stomped on."

Link squatted next to her, rubbing her back. "Even for my taste, I hardly imagine things like that. Flowers are creatures like us, but they were created to be trampled on. Adding color to the world is a side job, a profession tacked on whenever their bored. They don't even know what happens to them till it's too late."

She looked at him, cold and unmoving. Her voice seemed harsh. "We wouldn't know it, would we? Being killed or injured... for it happens to us all the time. I see it being similar to a virus that gets used to the antibiotics sent to kill it. Their natural code has gotten resilient to what kills it, and then that host is eventually crippled with terrible sickness. Humans are the same way. We get beaten up and bruised so much that we don't remember to pick ourselves up after it is said and done. We are like band-aids that are worn out after too many days of usage. We are all china dolls, broken and shattered beyond recognition. Some more than others..."

"Yeah." was all he used to respond, genuinely confused on how someone _would_ reply back to such a wild claim.

Zelda stared back at him, awkward silence enveloping between them. She straightened her dress. "Glad you like the dress."

"Welcome. I meant it, by the way. You resemble an actress dressed up in that. Imagine it, born for the stage. Care to recite any lines for me? I may not be an actor, but I can give you an honest critique."

She bit her lip, hesitant and unsure. Then, with a confident nod, the destined to be Belle stood and raced to the bandstand stage. Skipping up the steps, jumping from the floor to the top level, she spun around, laughing as she twirled. After settling down, she walked up to the railing, and placed her chin between her hands, reciting. "I look at the world and imagine what's wrong with it. People come and go, blurring lines that mesh into one large mess of selfish reasoning and impish behavior. We scowl and gnash our teeth at discomfort, rejoicing and praising the good fortune bestowed on us. Time is infinite, it will never stop. The beating of a human heart is. Finite. It'll end one day. We'll all die and leave this place behind. Sometimes I drawl up my books and peer in them. What knowledge can they give me? What can they help me with? Because, this world is screwed up, burning quickly and quietly. Whenever I leave it, I want my presence to be the most impactful of them all. It's selfish... but isn't that how the world runs? That's what I thought."

Zelda finished, stepping back from the railing. Link rubbed his jaw, his eyes concerning and taken aback. "How... that's one of my poems. You read my writing? Where-"

"I stole your book from you during lunch yesterday. Spent all night memorizing it. Wanted you to hear what your work sounded like aloud. It's always different when it comes from someone else's mouth than our own."

"I was wondering where it went. Sneaky girl, you are," he chuckled. "Why that one? I'm not angry. Just curious."

"Because I like it the best. Why else? Seemed fitting for the occasion. Except, I saw the date you wrote it. Almost three and a half years ago. Strong words for someone at a youthful age."

"Wasn't the best time, should I be honest. My parents were once again getting up and moving, dragging me in tow. Sometimes I'd hiss and scream at them to let me stay. My friends always offered places for me. Thinking about it now, they were full of bullshit," he hissed. "But, I was writing about a girl. May sound scandalous, but hear me out on this. She was a pretty girl, kind of like you, except she didn't have a heart quite like yours. We lived in the same neighborhood, and we'd go hiking together through the woods by our house. She died though. Had stage four cancer somewhere in her body. Her name was Midna."

"Sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. But... if you'd like, I'll dedicate the poem to you."

"How so?" Zelda questioned.

"The line of how a heartbeat is finite. I want to leave the biggest impact I can on the world. When I met Midna, it all made sense. I felt whole with her. Thought it'd never be replicated and then it was torn away like that," Link snapped his fingers. A tear dabbled his cheek. "I screamed at night for her memories to fade. I wanted them to dissipate and never reemerge again. But they kept coming back! They haunted me. And... and then I met you. Midna vanished from my mind. Perhaps it was a good thing."

"Link-"

"But I didn't come here to discuss dead friends and old love interests, did I? No. We came to talk about the present, the good fortune in our life."

"Dedicating something to me that you wrote when you didn't even know who I was... how is that possible?"

"It just his. I knew you. Had to. Happens all the time."

"Interesting how that works, isn't it?"

"Not quite following you."

"It's funny how you can know things. Learned recently, perhaps from a rude awakening... my parents were never married." she said.

"Who told you? That's cold to just drop on someone." Link frowned.

"Nobody," Zelda admitted. "It's one of those things I just understood all of a sudden. My mom spaced out when I asked about her wedding dress. It was because she never had one, a ceremony was never held. My father wronged her in more ways than one, but I can't hold anger towards that. It'd be foolish," she laughed. "Like in math, quadratics actually made sense for once. Surprised I was even confused on such a thing."

"That won't matter. You'll be good with this play. That's the important thing."

Zelda, gracefully and gaily, sat on the steps to the stage. Her skirt spread so she could be more comfortable on the wooden beams holding her weight. "I think I'd like to be an actress when I grow up. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"It'd be an alright job, but I digress. If you became a theater person, you'd kick ass at it. You'd be a great one, in the papers for the good reasons than the horrid gossip that plagues the print. All the buzz would be focused on you. Of course, that'd signify a lot of traveling. Being a star has its drawbacks."

"I'd like that."

"What about your husband?" Link sat down next to her.

She flinched. "My- my husband?"

"Would you take him around with you?"

"If he'd like it," Zelda shrugged. "Whenever it comes to that, I'd ask him. I hope so."

"He probably wouldn't. We men like to stay put. Least, it's how I feel they'd act like towards the subject matter. You women like to be flighty, leap from one place to the other. Guys prefer to stay centralized, local and comfortable. Change is generally rejected."

"Then I'd stay home with him. I'd be a _voice_ actor. They don't move around do they?"

"Guess not," Link frowned. He rummaged in his pants pocket, pulling out a package of gum. "Want a piece?"

"Why not? Give me something to do," Zelda agreed. He handed her a piece, and she unwrapped the stick of chewy sugar. "Thank you."

"It's what a gentleman does, is it not?" he chortled, placing a considerable wad in his mouth. The two smacked on their gum for a moment, taking in the savory delicacy. Link cleared his throat. "This may sound out of the blue... but hearing my poem made me think of this. Do you believe in God?"

Zelda had started to place the gum between her teeth, his question stopping her. "Why, of course I do. Don't you?"

"Eh, depends. I'm on and off about that. We always go to church on Sunday and all that, and they say God is there and I always used to believe it when I was a little kid. And then one day I went into a church, it wasn't any special day, I think it was a Thursday, There weren't any people in there. It didn't seem like God was either. Vacationing perhaps." he mused.

"Oh, no, He _must've_ been there."

"Well, maybe He was. It didn't feel like it thought. I seem to believe in Him sometimes though. This week, for instance."

"I don't think He'd like you going back and forth."

"God wouldn't mind. Questioning faith is the best part of it. God would have to understand." Link said. Crumbling his wrapper between his fingers, he threw it away to someplace, not bothering to see where it fell. Zelda copied him, the two smiling with the feeling of camaraderie between them.

She scratched her neck. "I can't tell you how you need to feel. Be the way you wish to be. Won't bother me."

"I reckon that if I do leave here, I'm going to want to have a house here. In your neighborhood. Across from yours. We'd wave at each other from across the street."

"What kind of house?"

"A brick one," Link grinned. "With storm windows and a furnace to look after. There'd be a twenty year mortgage. Has to be an even number. The oddity would throw me off my game. There'd be milk and oil spills in the living room, kids with contagious laughter echoing off the walls. Potted plants similar to the ones my mother would like lining the windowsills. My wife would want that."

"Wouldn't it be better to own the house?" Zelda eyed her friend with a curious gaze.

"No. I'd want a mortgage. Make me have something else in my own name, good or bad. What type of house would you want to live in?"

"Something absolutely absurd."

"Such as?"

"A castle."

"You would honestly expect to find a castle to be your residence?"

"Yes, in Sicily. Best place for castles, overlooking an aquamarine sea. I'd like that. Probably sounds silly for such a realist as yourself-"

"No," Link's tone was gentle. "Keeps me on my toes. Some people do live in castles, whether they be rich from their past lives, or inheritance out of sheer luck. It'd be a massive place for children to play in. Do you like children?"

"I love them!" Zelda's eyes sparkled with a newfound interest.

"I don't," he said bitterly. "Least, I used to. Perhaps I'd become comfortable with them once again whenever my old thoughts die out. I had a little brother once. Only... he died. I liked him quite a lot."

"What did he die of?"

"Drowned. We were on a cruise, and he fell over," Link closed his eyes. "Couldn't swim. Drowned in the big bad Pacific ocean."

"What was his name?"

"We called him Toon. I forgot his name," Link said distantly. "He had a fascination towards water and ships, even if the former scared the living daylights out of him. He also took a liking to cartoons, large features with exaggerated characteristics. Prominently the eyes. He could draw decently well for six years old. We gave him the name of Toon based on his taste in the comics and the animated world. It stuck. Mother cried for days and days till the tears couldn't continue to flow. My dad didn't eat. He became thinner than I did, and I didn't weigh much. Toon dying affected us all rather heavily. I should've expected such-"

"I'm more than hurt to know that," Zelda hugged him, rubbing his back. "You are awfully lonely, then?"

"Kind of. I guess." he replied lamely.

"There's a place to swim in the summer. We have a lake behind our neighborhood. Very few know of it. I'll show you it, if you'd like." she invited him.

"I like to swim."

"So do I. It's a nice release. We all need those at times. Releases," Zelda stood. "I should probably change out of my costume. This dress may get wrinkled. My mother would have a premature heart attack. I need to get home. Maybe I could talk to my mother about brick houses. They sound nice."

Link looked at the ground. "Okay." The bird he was whistling with returned, perched cautiously on a high beam in the roof. He smiled, whistling with it once more.

"You know something?" Zelda called from behind the bandstand.

"What?"

"School. It's so weird. Everyone is being so nice to me. It's rather good to feel happy, I suppose. Even Peach. Do you suppose it's because I'm in the play."

"It could be a multitude of reasons, actually. So, no, I don't think that." he stood up, wandering around experimentally. Kicking at the floor, his shoes made loud scuffling noises.

"Then why do you suppose it is?"

"Why wouldn't they be nice to you?"

"Because they were never nice to me before." Zelda answered simply.

"Well, they-re funny-the kids. They like you if you're the same as them. It doesn't mean much. To hell with it," Link joyously sang. His gaze stiffened, his eyes bent on someone emerging on the horizon.

"It means a lot to me." Zelda said, her voice tight.

In that moment, one singular second, the worlds of Link Scottsdale and Zelda Miranda came tumbling down. Peach Eona, highschool queen and bitch extraordinaire, waltzed into the bandstand. A basket was swinging around her left wrist, her light sunbeam hair graciously and effortlessly rested at the small of her back. She waved, Link not responding as she skipped over to him.

"Hello, Link." Peach greeted warmly.

"Hello."

"I won't be long, forgive me," Zelda's voice rang out from behind the stage curtains. "There is just so many buttons."

Peach raised an eyebrow, only a slight stillness betraying her thoughts. "Is that Zelda? Why... you're both here. At the bandstand. On a Saturday. Alone. Isn't it simply a heavenly place?"

"Yeah."

She smiled. "I'm sorry if I interrupted you at a picnic or something. Must be a beautiful thing you two were about to perform, right," she said, teasing and crossing a very thin line. The veins in Link's neck visibly popped, silent rage rising in his blood. "I come up here sometimes in the autumn months, for this is the only place in town in full bloom during the fall. Odd. The violets grow better here than anywhere else."

"Is someone there?" Zelda asked.

"My goodness. Doesn't this place look so silly from the hill? People at school take this place so serious." Peach drawled on, dragging the anxious and awkward tension out as long as she could.

Zelda came out from the stage curtains, dressed back in street clothes. Her mother's dress was clutched in her grasp. She tensed, sensing a threat. "Peach. Why are you here?"

"Hello, Zel," Peach chose to ignore the question. "What's that you've got?"

"My- my costume."

"May I see it?"

The Miranda girl hesitantly handed the popular gal of the school her mother's work. "Please be careful..."

"This is beautiful. Did your mother make it?"

"Yes." Link answered for his friend, his face stern and serious.

"Isn't she clever? And I've been wanting to tell you what a perfectly marvelous job you've been doing in the play. I've taken the time out of my day to watch the rehearsals and they have all exceeded my expectations. Truly, Zel, you are doing a terrific job." Peach gushed, hoping fake praise had a good working on the mental schematics of Zelda's mind.

"Oh, Peach-" Zelda was quick to rebuttal the compliment with a rush of gratitude.

"Aren't you also proud of Zelda, Link?"

Said boy in question blinked. "Sure." he hissed.

"I hope you aren't mad at me! Peach, I'm sorry about taking the role of Belle away from you. I hope I didn't really hurt you. It's just that Miss Adeline wanted me to and I couldn't say no to a teacher as it's being disrespectful and-"

"I didn't _want_ it, silly. My goodness, I've played the leads every year and it's got to be a bore after awhile. My mother is going to come anyways, giving compliments as she sees fits to those who deserve them. Will your mother be seeing the play?" Peach asked.

"Why, I-" Zelda started. There was a slight impasse, as they looked at each other.

Link intervened. "It's time I took Zelda home now. I'll take the dress."

"You know... I watch things, and you, Scottsdale, have been a figure on my eye for quite some time. You are _awfully_ nice to her, and how you come to the rehearsals. Taking her here of all places, backing out of your parents word. Why, how dastard of you to even attempt! Link, be sane. Always being nice. When's the drawback going to come back?" She handed him the dress.

"Come on Zelda." Link gruffed, grabbing her by the hand and thrusting her upward to her feet.

Peach eyed the pink violet in his hand. "A violet! May I have it? They're for my mother to wear tomorrow night. For Parent's Night. Is your mother coming to Parent's Night, Link?"

"Yeah. I guess so." he called over his shoulder. Zelda stopped, her body tightening.

"My mother and father will be there too. They wouldn't want to miss it for anything. They are always interested in whatever I do. Isn't it nice to have your parents be interested in your things?"

"My mother is going to come! You'll get to meet her, Mrs. Palutena Miranda!" Zelda blurted.

Link locked eyes with her. "Wait, what?" he asked incredulously.

"Is she?" Peach said quietly.

Zelda searched her brain for answers, desperately. Strengthening the decision, she smiled. "Yes. Like everyone else."

Peach extended her hand. "Do you want some violets to give her? I wouldn't mind sharing." her voice seemed full of warm generosity.

"Oh, yes!"

The popular girl of Hyrule High bent down, finding a second one that caught her eye. "Look at this funny pink one." she snarled, ripping it from its roots. Crushing it, she threw it in the basket.

Zelda blanched. "On- on second thought... you keep the violets."

"If you insist," Peach sighed. She got closer to the erroneous girl. She placed an arm around her waist. "Well, Zel, let's go. You and I must just have a talk. Have I introduced you to Lucina Lowell, Marth's sister? Well, you'll positively die!"

Link quietly walked over. "I must take Zelda home now. We must be off. Let's _go._ " he insisted, forcefully dragging Zelda off.

Peach watched them go, smiling idiotically. " _Oh, how easy I'll be able to ruin them. Link Scottsdale, you just dug yourself a grave_."

* * *

 **There we are my fellow readers, Chapter Six of Teach Me How to Cry finished and running. Yippee. I love finishing a new chapter, I get newfound excitement after posting, a muster of exhilaration that is hard to appease. So, another simple Link and Zelda chat, or no? Was the inclusion of Peach a good idea in this? It seems our popular school girl is someone to keep an eye on, she's got Mr. Scottsdale in her crosshairs. And that trigger finger is itching to fire a bullet.**

 **SeththeGreat- Hello! Why, it's wonderful to get a review from you! I am terribly sorry for never reviewing more of Wasteland, although I have been reading it. Thanks for the compliments, bountiful gratitude shall be bequeathed to you. Yeah, I say that this is and at the same time is not a Highschool AU for reasons to complicated to get into. Sometimes I dabble into fan service, but I wanted this to be different. I guess I'm succeeding? Sorry about the typos, even though we all do them. Sadly enough, don't think Snake will get a chance to drop his great advice. Story will be closing sooner than later, and I don't have many scenes planned with him.**

 **Metroid-Killer- Well, Zelda is protective. You've got that right. But, she's protective over emotions and her loved ones, even though she doesn't place her feelings where she _should_ be placing them. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!**

 **ExodiusLK- I'll have to agree to disagree. I felt that I did establish the setting well enough, and that was the mystery behind it. But, I digress. Yes, I admit that the chapter sure as hell is cute. Apparent lack of romance is apparent, but its working. Makes sense. Psychological defense is the best kid there is, no? And no, raining is not a central theme of this story. _Crying_ is! **

**That's this time around you all. Please review, the more I am able to respond the better. If you do review, please, for it'll mean a lot, let me know what you're favorite line in this entire chapter was. It'll help me in the future! Next chapter will be very short, more than likely less than 3.5k. Chapter 7, hopefully coming out around next weekend, is called Irritable Invitations. Our favorite mother/daughter pairing is coming back! Woot! Thanks for reading guys! Love you all! See ya!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	7. Chapter 7: Irritable Invitations

**We have come together, my readers, for a small update in Teach Me How to Cry, chapter seven, Irritable Invitations. Probably the smallest chapter to date, but that's okay, as I love this small interaction Zelda and Palutena will have together. This is the last scene before our big reveal of something next chapter which I'm sure none of you are seeing lol. Last chapter, Zelda made quite a large claim with Parents Night officially having Palutena Miranda coming to it, with Peach instigating this concern. She also has some plans for Mr. Link Scottsdale, one not good for our fellow. Enjoy Chapter 7, Irritable Invitations.**

* * *

Zelda hissed, wincing as her mother's sewing needle stabbed her skin accidentally. She stood on a low stool in the middle of their living room, the scent of bitter tea swamping the whole house. Palutena was on her knees, sweating feverishly. A hurried glaze was spread over her eyes, as she whisked away at the skirt wrapped around her daughter's waist. Zelda bit her lip, ready to just jump into the action. However, she knew what her mother was like. The response would vary from every direction.

Palutena finished pining the hem of the skirt to Zelda's waist. "Done! Why, darling, you look absolutely gorgeous in that. Promise me you'll wear it tomorrow to school?"

"Of course I will, why wouldn't I?"

"Need I remind you of your teacher and what she told me? You going to school in my outfits and then ditching them later... well, I will not tolerate it. I spend much of my time devoting to it and I need it to go to good use."

"Yes mother," Zelda nodded, getting off the stool. Her body was filled with suppressed excitement. "You remember, don't you? About Peach Eona and her friends? That's just it! I told you about how I felt they might've just been my friend out of pity or some fake reason... but its true! They really are my friends. I was so proud of Peach and I looked up to her for she is an amazing role model... I imagined they actually liked me. My worry has been appeased for they do!" She threw her hands in the air, giddy and exhilarated beyond belief.

Palutena smiled. "Yes, sweetheart. She's always been your best friend. Haven't we already discussed this over tea? What's the need of bringing it back up if we've already disclosed the mat-"

The daughter of the two turned abruptly, facing her mother. "But... Mom, my assumptions were correct! Everything's different."

"Darling, I am positive that things _are_ unlike what they used to be. You're different." the green-haired matriarch said slowly.

"I knew you would understand! I'm proud of you too, for the lovely costume. The gorgeous halcyon swirls combined with luscious smears of sunset orange... I wanted to die in the comfortable material you made out of it. Mother, I showed it to Peach. She called you clever! Many girls in our school would flat out collapse if she said that to them. I can't believe she thought that of you, since she is a Eona and all of them... well, that doesn't matter! They, the people at school, _will all_ think that when they see your costumes. And, when they see you."

"Zel, please stand back up on the stool. I realize that one of the pins isn't sticking. We don't want the boys at school getting an eye view of you." Palutena murmured, not necessarily aloud but not to herself either.

Zelda complied. "Tomorrow night is a very important night for me. Everyone is going to school for meetings and such. They call it Parents Night. The kids go, and so do their parents. You get to meet everyone and have a wonderful time!"

"Sounds nice."

"Why, it's more than just nice, mother! It's delightful! Nothing-nothing happens there that you have to be worried about. Everybody dresses up all real studious like, as if they are attending mass or something. We go to the Assembly Hall, hearing a lecture from our principal that I've heard so many times I can recite in my sleep. Then we disperse, meeting the teachers and observing the school. I want you to go. You don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to. I just want you to be there. That's all." She winced, trying not to frighten her mother.

Palutena was quiet, silently terrified, knowing something terrible was wrong. She paused from her hemming. "Parents Night?" she asked, frowning.

"At my school," Zelda clarified. "You've never seen my school, and you'll know what I'm talking about after this when I tell you things over tea later on. You like me talking about school, don't you?"

"I like it sometimes. But, hemming your outfit is more on my to-do-list than attend a silly school-"

"We can do the hem in a minute. First, let's decide what you'll wear," A bright sparkle shined in the eager teen's eyes. "That deep emerald dress you have! It is the prettiest one you have in the closet... wear that! People would be sick with longing watching you. Peach would be so jealous!"

"I wear that to church. That's reserved for God, darling." Palutena said firmly.

Zelda pushed on urgently. "Yes, and you like going to service, right? Everyone is nice to you there, saying good morning and the smiles. All the smiling, and the politeness that exudes from them. We say good morning, they say it back! Well, it'll be the exact same scenario, except we have to start with a good evening. Simple!"

"I'll say good evening..."

"Yes! Yes! Mother, you're getting it," the teen couldn't rest her happiness, crouching to the carpet from the stool. "I'll stay right by your side, the same way I do at church. You'll get to see how nice everyone is to me! It'll be the best night of the year, if you give it a chance. I'm telling you!"

"That's my problem, sweetie. You're different. _Why_ are you different? Change is never good..." Palutena asked her, staring at Zelda Miranda straight in the eyes. It was a rare occasion for such seriousness to take place in the house.

"I'm not different! I've become happier than before, that's all. I thought I was changing, but that has long since stopped."

The response came back rather piteously. "I don't understand. I don't understand."

"You don't have to. You only have to stay beside me and do what I say. We'll have such a great time."

"Alright."

Zelda faced her mother, her face exultant. "I didn't know I could be happy."

"Foolishness," Palutena dismissed the statement with a casual wave of her hand. She started hemming the skirt again, even though the conditions was less than suitable. She was breathing into the carpet, her daughter crouched low on the floor. "You have, forever in my mind, been happy."

"No. No, that's a lie. I have never been happy. Excited perhaps. Happy? No. Never. However, now I feel light and energetic and boisterous. Through the day at school, I'm running and laughing and being someone I thought would never come true. At night I'm dreaming, of golden woods with apples the size of ceiling fans being blown away by rainbow winds. There's a waterfall that I think of when walking to school, roaring and crashing down a brilliant blue. I find it strange, now when thinking... I'm not afraid if it goes away. It couldn't go away, my fear... just months ago. Now it can't even leave, no matter how hard I try."

"I've been lied to this whole time..."

"No, you haven't. You _weren't_ present, that's the issue, mother" Zelda spoke sternly. "All you have to do is say good evening. If anyone asks you a question... then I'll answer for you. Shyness exists in many people. We call it anxiety when it grows to a crippling level."

"Sh-shy?"

Zelda closed her eyes, nodding. Deciding it was never going to happen again, she hugged Palutena. The embrace caught the mother off guard, almost teetering them over to the floor. She kissed her, Zelda Miranda finally executed the action of a close daughter to a close mother. "Oh mother, I love you so much!"

Palutena sat up like a rocket, half throwing, half pushing her daughter off. "You- you've never said that to me before." She started to sob, clutching Zelda's legs, rocking back and forth.

Zelda scoffed. "Don't... mom, please-"

"I don't like the way you're acting. You are scaring me Zel, scaring me!"

"Don't be frightened. I don't want you to be frightened, because we don't have to be... oh, can't you understand?"

"I don't understand anything anymore."

"Then try! Why can't you try for me then, if no one else," Zelda shouted in a moment of despair, fury and long awaited emotions pouring out. "You never even attempt it! You give up all the time and lean on me. It's all you do, leaning on a shoulder to cry on. It makes me tired!" She huffed, storming to the window, staring out of it.

"You're angry now... aren't you?" Palutena asked from her tattered ball.

"No, I'm not," Zelda's voice was empty. "I'm not anything.

Palutena struggled up to her feet. "You are. Zel, admit it. You are angry. Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it. Just don't be angry." she offered. She outstretched her hands, almost beseechingly.

Zelda swung on her. "I want you to go to the school tomorrow night and not be frightened. I want you to never be frightened!"

It was rather ironic, the outburst, as Palutena leaped out of her own skin, terrified. "Yes, dear. I'll never be frightened."

"You'll come to Parents Night?"

"Yes-"

"Promise?"

"Yes!"

"And you won't go anywhere to hide when things get rough?"

"No."

"Promise." Zelda was unflappable.

"I promise." Palutena nodded solemnly, one lone tear streaming down her cheeks.

The living room of the Miranda residence was quiet and silent, save for the screaming of the tea kettle and the bitter scent of said drink. The two stood, staring at each other. In a breaking of the tension, the two hugged, whispering soft assurances and apologies to each other as the darkness of the room drained into a lighter glow. Times were a changing.

Parents Night was coming.

* * *

 **There we are my fellow readers! That was Chapter 7, Irritable Invitations. Even though this chapter is terribly short, it's buttering us up for our next chapter, which I figure is probably called Parents Night, because I'm unimaginative and can't think of a new title. But, despite this chapter being small, much happened in the course of these two speaking. Zelda grew a firm hold of her emotions, agreeing to be stern and happy. Palutena is slowly coming out of a sheltered fantasy. Like the story said, times were a changing.**

 **Metroid-Killer- Yeah, Peach is irredeemable in this story. Luigi is my favorite Mario character however. Now... I want a story focusing on him, haha. And yep, that was the irony of the flowers. Pink is normally her favorite color, but here she is ridiculing it and hating it. Thanks for the review!**

 **ExodiusLK- I still want to get that birthday drabble out for you, but that may be this weekend because I'm pathetically slow and have a terrible tendency to write absolute crap for the small stuff. Lol, begging Peach to be nice is gonna get you nowhere, sweetheart. Wow, that's gonna be a first for me! No typos? Sweet. And yes, gruffed is a word. I've seen it books, similar to a grumble.**

 **Luca the Wolf- I never know when you review because for some reason I do not get a notification. Peach is quite the backwards character, isn't she? Thanks for the compliment! There'll be more on the way.**

 **Alright, next chapter is a doozy and I'm certain it'll be the longest one in the story. I'm aiming for a 8k-12k chapter, but I am no so sure my fingers will type that fast and insanely. Please review! Let me know what your thoughts are on this small chapter? Was it a better pace to the long ones I've been writing? Also, is Zelda and Palutena's shift a good... plot point? Let me know, I'll be delighted to respond. Hopefully I'll have Chapter 8 out by Monday, but I don't know. This story is almost finished, just four chapters to go. Thanks for reading guys! Love you all! Have a wonderful day! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	8. Chapter 8: Parents Night

**Probably the biggest chapter of them all. I hope you guys are ready. I'm Paradigm of Writing, bringing to the table, Chapter 8 of Teach Me How to Cry, our Parents Night! We've gone through seven chapters of rollercoaster emotions, crazy friends and kissing, learning how to cry and sew dresses... ignorant parents who dissuade against certain boys meeting certain girls. Some such things exist in my stories, lol. But, tonight, we have brought the crucifix down- it's Chapter 8- Parents Night! Like I said two lines above, this'll be the longest chapter (least I'm striving towards). Every character we've seen will be in this monstrous chapter, so brace yourselves. We are very close to the end of this tale. Thanks for sticking with me on the long haul ride.**

* * *

The night was quiet, and Hyrule High acted as its only company. The halls were lined with streamers, decorative balloons in a plethora of colors: emerald, ruby, sapphire, chalk black, pearl white, silly string swamps covering the pallid floors... the school was insane. A parking lot chock full of cars lied on the outskirts, the moon overseeing the vehicles and to ward off any disturbances.

In the cafeteria, such cleanliness was kept true, for the exception of a crying girl.

Lucina Lowell ran through, dashing by the double doors to spin in a frantic circle to the floor. She sobbed, clutching herself and rocking back and forth. Samus bustled in after her, the girl's name leaving her lips in admonishing cries. Catching up to the bluenette, the friend caught her breath while placing her hands on her knees.

"I hate her! I hate her! I hate her with all my heart!" Lucina snarled, fierce passion and anger echoing in her words.

"No, you don't." Samus sighed.

"I do! You wouldn't understand."

"Yes, on the contrary, Lucy. I've felt that way about her before. _You_ only are saying that in the heat of the moment. Hell, my worst enemy sometimes gets the nastiest words from me!"

"She does it all the time," Lucina croaked. "But... today... in front of my _parents_? I could die! My parents complemented my look, which I had her help me with. I was nice and neat. Everyone heard her, she nearly shouted it. My parents have to see me at home, with the door closed! All she ever remembers is the slight moments when I'm untidy and now the whole town knows." She buried her face in her hands, resuming her crying, running back out the cafeteria. Samus stood, watching, completely lost and unsure of how to help.

Rosalina was entering the vast space, only to have the infamous Lowell sister barrel past her. The school teacher straightened her dress, marching in. She waved her hands comically at the outside. "What's going on here? What is the matter with Lucina?"

"Nothing, Miss Adeline." Samus lied, staring at the floor.

"Every time, and I'm not over exaggerating young lady, _every time_ I start getting friendly with someone outside, a student contradicts me or there's a raucous commotion going on that I have to address. You teens are contradicting me, and I'm tired. I only wish you guys could understand," Rosalina shook her head, pulling out a key from her pocket. She gave it Samus. "Here is the key to Building 8. My room is open. I need all of the report cards that were printed. I need them as soon as possible, but now would be best."

"Of course."

"And remember that the light switch is next to the fire alarm, right beside it. It's the second thing you feel on the closest wall. Last time I entrusted you with this, you set it off and we had to postpone the event."

"Yes, Miss Adeline," Samus said. Rosalina turned to leave. The teenager shuffled a foot awkwardly. "Erm, Miss Adeline?"

"They're on the desk like I told you. Can't miss them. God help you if that happens..."

"I was just wondering... you know when you helped me with my painting in art? With the metallized dragon?"

"No, I can't recall."

"If my parents happen to ask you-it isn't that I lied to them. They think I did the painting all by myself, and I couldn't get one word about you helping me. My mom wants to _hang_ it in the living room, above the TV. It was talked about on the drive here, and I have a feeling they'll ask you about it if they can't find my art teacher. I told them-"

"Samus, I honestly have to go." the teacher huffed impatiently.

"And they are going to be so proud of me-"

"Young lady, I have parents asking me right this minute about those report cards," Rosalina crossed her arms. "I need them. They're more recent, overriding last week's. Be assured, you have an A average in all of your classes because of that painting." She gripped Samus's shoulder, smiled lightly, and strode off as briskly as she came.

Samus nodded to herself, exiting the way Lucina came. Seemed that the cafeteria would be cause for much action as Marth, trailed by Peach, entered as Rosalina exited. Marth was sweating, Peach flushed and crimson in the face.

"Marth Lowell, I was talking to you!" she shouted.

"Peach, darling, I can't," he hushed her, looking around frantically. "Now where did that tour go?"

"What tour?"

"The one I was conducting. Miss Adeline gave me a tour I had to lead of parents around campus and they vanished on me the moment you came to talk to me. My ass is screwed if-"

"I suppose I'm not that interesting to you, then?" Peach asked coolly, twirling her hair.

"I'm interested," Marth insisted, his tone worried, brow furrowed. "But, it has to wait till tomorrow. Can it?"

"Depends," the queen bee of Hyrule High pressed her lips together firmly, wry and grim. "It's only about the school tennis matches. I suppose they aren't important enough."

Rosalina Adeline's voice boomed through the cafeteria, and the two turned to see the teacher hastily running back in, almost tripping in her heels. "Marth Lowell, I have been looking for you all evening. I asked you to wait in the doorway of the front office."

"I'm sorry, Miss Adeline. I lost the tour."

"Lost it? How could you lose a tour? I had the whole night beautifully planned, but everyone keeps moving around," Rosalina rubbed her forehead. "Why can't you teens just stay still for five damn minutes?"

"Marth and I were just talking for a minute." Peach said innocently, teetering on her heels.

"Eona, dear, is it too much to ask of you that perhaps there'd be a chance of considering your teachers for this one day out of a year? You've interrupted Marth from his duties today thrice, and it's getting on my nerves. I'm patient, but you make my patience thin. You're usually not a nuisance. I have a sharp thorn in my side already, stop surmounting the pain. You're one of the people I _count_ on! What is it that's troubling you?"

"Nothing, Miss Adeline. There isn't anything-"

Rosalina cut her off sternly. "Yes, _there_ is. I can tell by your face, trouble is written all over it. You have looked disturbed all day, even during school hours. Don't think I didn't notice."

"She won't tell me a thing." Marth added his two cents.

"Have you been rude to her?"

"No ma'am. You know me! I'd never."

"Something is worrying you, but I'll give you a few moments to talk amongst yourselves. Two minutes, Peach, and I'll need your boyfriend to focus." Rosalina ordered.

"If you say so..." Peach mumbled.

"And Marth, I need you to show the Scottdales to the Band Room. Mrs. Scottsdale says she used to be a harp player once upon a time, and she is dying to take a gamble at it. She's interesting in playing one. Find a tactful way to keep her from trying it. Say it is broken, old, strings will snap... they can be on anything but that harp. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am." Marth nodded.

Rosalina jogged out, shaking her head in confusion. She stopped, one foot out the door. "Peach, please remember that today's setbacks are tomorrow's triumphs."

The couple was left to their silence, awkward and tense. An angry mood set over the cafeteria, Marth rubbing his shoulder innocuously. "Did she say you were worrying about something? Something important?"

Peach was very edgy. "Of course it isn't important! I told you it wasn't important. Lose all the bullshit you don't need in that brain of yours and you'd remember that stuff."

"If it is only the tennis matches you're worrying about, well, I simply forgot that they were starting. That's all."

"You didn't forget the other years," she replied hotly. "But you weren't playing desperate love scenes with Zelda Miranda were you, those others years? Perhaps you'd play tennis with her instead of me. Seems that all you can do is ogle her up and down. Sickening."

"Who said anything about playing tennis with Zelda?" Marth questioned, his hands curling into fists.

"Well, you completely dismissed the idea of playing it with me either. I'd appreciate it if you'd either get in your bid or drop out of the running."

"I'm not running," Marth scolded. "Look in the mirror sweetheart. You run from everything, run from _everyone_. Don't even know why I decided to date you. Fake and phony atop fake and phony is disgusting, as you so call me," he spat bitterly. Peach held a hand to her chest, taken aback strongly. "Don't lie to me and say that you don't know what I'm talking about. I hear what you say about Zelda. As though she has leprosy or something. She's a nice kid. She's _nice_! Do you know what that is? I don't think you do! The other day I was ashamed, ashamed the way everybody's been to her. It's all a lie, none of you believed it. Call me a liar, I dare you. Peach, weren't you ashamed?"

Peach turned her back to him, trying to hold tears. "Don't talk to me."

The doors to the cafeteria were thrown open again once more, this time Rosalina leading a trio behind her. Link Scottsdale and his two parents. Marth tersely glanced at his now seemingly ex-girlfriend, the normally aplomb girl that radiated sangfroid now devoid of emotion. Lackluster. She didn't even make a face.

"Thank you Miss Adeline. I'm anxious to see the Band Room," Robin smiled. Turning her attention to Marth, who had straightened his outfit and made an attempt to impress, she shook his greeting hand. "And you must be our tour guide, Mr. Lowell."

"Yes."

"Then I'll have you know, I'm Robin Scottsdale," the mother introduced herself. Then, adding in like an afterthought, "This is my husband, Snake. A Scottsdale, of course."

"How are you tonight?" Marth opined to take the usual route.

Snake chose to ignore the question, more seemingly interested in world and town politics. "Your father is chairman of the school board, isn't he?"

"Yes sir, he is. Proud of it too."

"I almost met him while at the shooting range. He got away from him, sadly enough."

"Tell me, Marth," Robin interrupted, closing in, "I'm sure you can tell me, how is Link getting along?"

Link, at the mentioning of his name, groaned. "Mother, not this again-"

"He gets an okay, I guess." Marth shrugged.

"She wasn't asking about how he's doing during school, lad." Snake corrected him.

"Thank you honey, that's right. How is Link getting _along_ with the boys here? He doesn't talk much at home- you know how boys are, given you are one."

"Kill me now..." Link pleaded to heaven.

"My son is quiet. He's shy. I wished you'd take the trouble to understand him, Marth." Robin whined.

Both teenage boys turned bright pink with embarrassment. Marth scratched his neck. "I guess so. Miss Adeline said you'd like to see the-"

"Yes, the Band Room." Link cut him off.

"We'd like it very much," Robin agreed. "It's wonderful the way the schools are going in for music and the finer things these days. When I was a girl, that only belonged in the home. You young people don't realize how lucky you are."

"I'm sure we don't." Marth rolled his eyes. The trio now turned quartet slowly walked off to the left of the cafeteria, heading to the courtyard in the excursion of finding a room filled to the brim with musical instruments.

"Is your dad here tonight?" Snake questioned their guide.

"Yes, my father is somewhere around campus, being led by someone else."

"Well, maybe we can run into him!" the father of the Scottsdale family said cheerfully. The group disappeared out the doors, leaving Peach still observing in stunned moments of movement. As the group exited, Samus ran back in, hand chock full of report cards. She skittered to a stop when noticing her best friend.

"Oh, hey Peach! I see that you are just as confused as I am. Miss Adeline disappeared on me. Looking for your parents?"

"Why should I?" Peach retorted rudely.

"Did you lose them?"

"What are they? Three?"

Samus eyed her cautiously. "No, they aren't. I just wanted to show them my painting. You know how parents are, thinking their children have artistic talent and make a big fuss over things like paintings and figurines. I was told that they wanted to see it. Marth let me know that just a few moments ago."

Peach clenched her jaw, then grabbed her friend's hand. "We can search together then. I want to go the vending machine and get a soda. I'm gonna need to borrow a dollar though-"

"We couldn't just leave! What would your mother say?"

"Why is that so important to you? Besides, she isn't even _here._ She's starting a traveling library for unfortunate cripples and things like that."

"Oh. That's too bad," Samus felt genuinely empathetic. "Your dad? What about him?"

"A recognized man like my father? As a doctor? Good heavens, he's too busy coming to a childish affair like this. He-"

"Okay, we can chat later then? I need to find my parents." Samus ran off, to the right cafeteria door, leaving Peach's words to be heard by empty air. As the blonde clutching the report cards left, she bumped straight into Zelda Miranda and Palutena.

Zelda smiled warmly. "Oh, hello Samus!"

"Hello."

"Mother, this is my friend Samus."

Palutena nodded, dressed in an ethereal emerald gown, her own viridescent hair coupling the silk well. "Good evening." she replied mechanically.

"I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Miranda. I'm sorry that I have to head. My parents need to be found, it is a serious matter." Samus dismissed the acknowledgment and vanished outside.

Zelda grinned when she saw Peach, and raced over to her, practically dragging Palutena by her heels. Peach Eona wanted to spit in the blissful girl's face. The Miranda daughter was beautiful, a simple, suave violet gown clutching to her back. Her sepia hair was in a braid that rested lightly on her shoulder, once again another flower stuck by her left ear, this time it being a violet that Peach had picked out for her yesterday. The queen bee of Hyrule High noted a dull twitch in her right eye.

"Isn't it wonderful? Tonight is just going so great! I've been looking all over for you!" Zelda babbled incoherently, practically leaping all over the place.

"What's lovely?" Peach snorted.

"Why... just about everything, I guess! I mean, everyone is here and my mother came like I said, and people are being _nice_ which is a good thing and-"

"Good evening." Palutena smiled.

Peach glanced at her, frowning. "Is- is she okay?"

"I'm terribly sorry," Zelda apologized, holding her mother's hand. "Peach, this is my mom. Mother, this is Peach Eona, the girl I've been telling you about," she introduced the two. The matriarch just kept the silly grin on her face, the former of the greeters raising a curious eyebrow. "And since you've met my parents, I'm dying to find yours. Where are they?"

"How should I know? Everybody has lost everyone tonight, I'm no exception. Beats me," Peach said intensely. "Nobody knows where anyone else is, and all they can think of to do is ask me." Then, with a hasty, near pouting, half crying expression on her face, the popular girl that no one seemed to truly like ran off, from the left of the cafeteria.

Palutena was lost, partly amazed, and downright confused. Her eyes were genuine and concerned. "Was that Peach?"

"Yes. Sometimes she can be very busy. Mother, I would love to go and show you the garden. There is a flower I've been growing specifically for this night that I'd like to give to you."

"A garden?"

"Right! There's violets, roses, petunias, daisies, sunflowers... all of the plants and shrubs-" Zelda nodded.

"Well, can we see the gymnasium now?" Snake Scottsdale's voice could be heard outside. The Miranda duo froze as the Scottsdale trio bustled on in. Link made notice immediately, clearing his throat and making no attempt to draw attention to themselves.

"Yes, it is right this way." Link pointed out the right entrance to the cafeteria. As he and his parents walked out the right door, Zelda led Palutena past them. The two teens made eye contact, acknowledging their parents.

Tentatively, Zelda waved. "Hello."

"Good evening." Palutena greeted, robotically and monotone.

Snake and Robin seized up, realizing who the two were. Robin lifted her head up, walking briskly past them. Snake turned beet red, embarrassed and unsure of how to respond. He crossed between the two girls, following his wife. Link hugged Zelda, happy to see her. Actually, happy didn't begin to even describe the true feelings he was emoting.

"Hello, Zelda." he grinned cheekily.

She blushed. "And likewise to you, sir. Mother, this is a boy I know. We've discussed him before, remember? Link Scottsdale..."

"You seem like a very nice young man." Palutena complimented. Suddenly, the color in her face drained and she spun around, nervous for her daughter's reaction as she broke her promise.

"He _is_ ," Zelda agreed. "And dare I say it, handsome too."

"You flatter me." Link blushed deeply.

The teenage girl opened her mouth, interrupted by a wail coming from the left side of the cafeteria, outside. It was a sob, strong and full of bitter emotion. Palutena spun to face the direction where the sound came from, her pale face losing _even more_ color so now her eyes looked like specters. Memories flooder her brain, ones of a boy with pallid hair, sandy skin, light and gentle diamond eyes with a kiss placed on her nose. All the pain resounded through her, rippling and cascading thoughts of hatred to her brain. She started to tremble.

"Someone is crying..." she hissed, grabbing Zelda by the wrist.

Link noticed the uneasiness. "I love the costume you made for your daughter in the play. She will look like a real Belle on stage with that dress on."

Robin's voice could be heard from the outside. "Link!"

"I guess I'll have to be going now..." the Scottsdale boy rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"Who is crying?" Palutena whispered urgently.

Zelda tensed up. "I don't know."

Link started to exit, then stopped, halfway across the room. "I'm glad I met you, Mrs. Miranda."

Palutena clutched to her daughter, desperate and frantic. She squeezed her eyes shut. _Not now. Please not now. Anytime but now_. "Zelda, _who is crying_?"

"I don't know mother, but it shouldn't matter. It's nobody," Zelda said hurriedly. She grabbed her mother's hand, going in the direction of the garden. "Let me show you the garden now." She stopped, giving Link a look, one of contentment, misunderstanding, and forgiveness, before exiting the cafeteria. Link rocked on his heels, unsure of whether or not he should follow his parents or take after his best friend.

" _The things she says. The things she does. Why... why do people dislike her for it? Zelda is one of the most honest, caring persons in the world I've ever met. Why-"_ he thought solemnly.

"Link! Hell, boy, we've been calling you for the past three minutes!" Snake's stern and firm, but not unkind voice boomed as he entered the cafeteria.

"Yeah... Dad... I was just coming." Link had a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Your mother is waiting."

"I know." The father and son duo exited the cafeteria as Peach and Zelda bustled back in, Peach's arm draped around Zelda's waist, pushing her further into the room. The blonde's cheeks were puffy, red, and streamed with tears.

Zelda was speaking. "Of course I like talking to you, but couldn't we have talked out in the garden? My mother is harmless."

"Your mother will be alright."

"I don't know. She hasn't been out in public in quite some time for specific... reasons and such. I want to say that she will be fine, if she does what I asked her to do. But she's going to wonder why I was dragged back inside so quickly... it'll hurt her to know I left. And if I can ask, why were you hiding out there?"

"I wasn't hiding." Peach sniffed disdainfully, sticking her head up in the air.

"Sounded like you were crying. I am able to tell those things. Peach, there's no need to lie-"

The popular girl laughed airily. "What a silly little thing you are," she cooed. "I am perfectly fine. I am just a little disappointed that my parents aren't here. That's all. Besides, I've got you for company. Why, I like you being here and wishing to chat. Few people here at this school have time for it nowadays. Zel, I'm going to be having a party soon, as my eighteenth birthday is coming up and I'd love for you to come."

"I'd love to," Zelda smiled. "It's so nice of you to offer."

"Boys will be there. Perhaps one could ask you out?" Peach suggested, winking.

"I don't care about that. Love isn't high on my priority list right now, actually. I just want to focus on my schoolwork and maintain the friendships I've gotten throughout this year. I've got my mother, and my friends. Seems balanced."

"Of course you don't, silly. Link fills that void, doesn't he? You've got him. Aren't you two terribly in love? Seems like it..."

"No, we aren't. It's rather cute to think so, but we're not. Friends is all we are," Zelda smile disappeared. "It isn't _anything_ like that, Peach."

"It isn't? But all the time you spend together... the times at the bandstand? All the buttons on dresses?" Peach asked mischievously.

Zelda felt uncomfortable, rubbing her arms. "Could you ever come over to my house instead of asking me to come to yours? My mother makes tea every afternoon, and we chat over it. You could have tea too, you'd like it. My mother always gets visitors and she's always lonely when I'm not there. You must."

"I'd adore to," Peach lied. "We'll go back and forth. That's what friends are for, aren't they? We share our secrets, our lies, our grudges and it's a happy relationship! Many friends don't know to do this."

"Sounds like an awful shame. Glad you think we're good friends!"

Peach sat on the steps of the stage in the cafeteria, dangling her legs. "Zelda, I need you to remember a conversation we had, if you could do that for me. You remember what you said that day on the bandstand? About how I wanted the part of Belle..."

"Yes."

"And I said I didn't care about playing the role. Well, that was only because I wasn't sure if you were my friend or not."

"Oh." Zelda looked down at her shoes.

Peach strode towards Zelda. "But the truth is... the truth of the matter is, I would die to play Belle, because I happen to have a more or less... _personal_ reason. I guess if you'd known I really wanted it, you wouldn't have taken the role. Would you? It's a friendly thing to do, stepping down in order to build others up. I do it all the time and would like to see the courtesy drawn back to me."

"Why I-"

"Would you Zelda? Not if I was your friend, but because you knew I wanted it. That's what you said- you said that yesterday. You were sorry, dreadfully sorry and it hurt to even think about! Well, if you were really sorry, then you would have dropped out for reasons unknown. There are many scenarios as to why that could be the case. Rehearsals have barely started, the show doesn't go on for another two months. Do this for me please. I know the whole part off my heart, unlike you I assume," Peach snarked. "Boys have taken your mind off of the important things, the social order needs to be kept clean and here you are shitting all over it with Link Scottsdale. Doesn't it get boring when you have to rehearse every day, knowing his creepy eyes bore into your back and he so sexually desires you? How don't you see it? Are you blind? Stupid just like your mother? Perhaps that doesn't need answering, because you clearly don't care about your own flesh and blood. Going to the bandstand everyday, meeting him. Making out. Despicable."

"Link and I do NOT make out, nor do I see him everyday. Where do you get these accusations from?" Zelda objected hotly.

"Yes! Every day! It's every day, and I know, because I've seen you."

"Peach, if you would just-"

Peach smiled in a senile manner. "There's no need to argue about it, anyways. All I want for you is to drop out of the play graciously and let me accept the role of Belle in Beauty and the Beast. I'll never mention the bandstand again and then we can be friends like nothing happened. All works out in the end, I just happen to be on top."

"I couldn't. I can't do that," Zelda shook her head in dissent. "There's no reason to drop out now."

"I just told you all the reasons. Are you deaf?" Peach's voice was hard.

"You must be teasing. My mother has nearly made all of the costumes and her work will go to waste. It's unfair. Miss Adeline would pitch a fit, as she inspired me to audition in the first place. She wouldn't understand. No one in this school would understand. How could they? Even _I_ don't understand. I don't understand, at all why you'd... unless," Zelda trailed off. Her hands balled into fists. "Stop lying to me. You were crying outside. Why? Is it because your parents didn't show?"

A tortured cry came from the blonde's throat and she collapsed into a heap on the floor. "Shut up!"

"I'm not meaning any malice intent-"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!"

Zelda was taken aback by the harsh swearing, but she kept her cool. "On normal circumstances, your language would be cause for concern. But it is the reason why. I understand certain things, and the lack of your mother being here is one of them. What about the violets you got your parents?"

"She didn't even put them in water..." Peach's voice was ghostly, weak and quiet. "They were just left there on the table, lying there till they were dead. My parents want me to be like those flowers. Dead. It'll make the world a better place I suppose."

"No they wouldn't."

"How would you know?"

"Because it is a parent's job to love their children."

"You know shit, Zel! Stop acting like a god," Peach screamed, leaping to her feet in anger. "Your mother wouldn't even come to the play. It'd be in public, and you have now seen firsthand how she acts. But, mine would, and so would my father. He'd bring his friends. He'd fall in love with you and have you be his daughter because there would be someone else on stage in the glory. Your dad wouldn't even show up. He screwed your mother and ran like the coward he is. No wonder you are so stupid. Please, I beg of you, let me be Belle! Let me! It isn't hard."

"No, it's not easy." Zelda couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Please!"

"I can't. I can't! I want to be your friend, but not in these circumstances-"

"My _friend?_ Do you even hear yourself right now," Peach yelled at the top of her lungs, in a fury unmatched. "My friend? You have the gall to even utter that word. Would you like to know something Zelda Miranda? I've never, never in my whole life, hated anybody like the way I hate you. You are disgusting, have a disgusting family as your support, and sleep with men everywhere. I'll give you one last chance," her voice was dangerously calm. "Drop out of that play or else! I'll tell the whole town everything about you and Link Scottsdale!"

"There isn't anything to tell."

"There's plenty. There's lots to tell. And I'll start tonight, running over the whole globe to destroy you. You'll be sorry. He'll be sorry. Your mother will be sorry. She would've wished to have never spoken to him... your despicable dad."

"Stop it! Don't you talk to me any more! Just don't you ever talk to me, or about my family like that again," Zelda hissed, her eyes black and furious. "You said you wanted to be _my_ friend. You don't know what it means to have one do you?"

"You-you-you... you _slut_!" Peach hysterically screamed, pushing Zelda out of the way, racing out of the cafeteria, barreling past Link as he walked back in. She cried the whole way, and somewhere in the world, people cheered.

"Zelda... is Peach okay? She's been erroneous all night," Link pointed, his eyebrows furrowed. "I wanted to apologize with how my parents reacted. They don't understand. Least your mother is nice. She seems like a great woman! Don't let what people think hurt you."

Zelda was cold, and in a shock. "Yes. Yes it does." she replied, devoid of emotion.

"No it never does."

"They will think things about us, too."

"About who?" Link was confused.

"Us."

"What do you mean? What do they think? Who is they to begin with? Please talk to me."

"Can you just leave me alone?" Zelda placed her face in her hands.

"Zel?" Link raced over to her, hugging her. He kissed her on the cheek, igniting another spark inside the girl's heart. "What's the matter?"

Marth opened the doors to the cafeteria, left alone with no one trailing him. He smiled gently, hurt and confused like everyone else that night. His eyes sparkled when he saw Link and Zelda. "Hey."

"Hello."

"I guess I was wrong about you. And her."

"Who?"

"Funny how we can all be wrong about people. But I guess you got Zelda Miranda immediately, a key to the lock no doubt. Right from the start."

"What are you going on about?" Link couldn't decipher the strange statements.

Zelda looked up, waving half-heartedly at the popular school boy. "Peach kind of..."

"I don't care about her anymore. But, you are a different story," Marth chuckled. Link tensed. "Want to take a little walk up to the bandstand, Zelda? Seems like you and your mother prefer travelers, but there's a lot of good in the old home town boys."

"You son of a bitch!" Link howled, standing up. With a heart wrenching sob, he leaped from his seat against Zelda, landing on top of Marth. He was swinging with everything, all of his heartache and all of his troublesome fury. Marth couldn't even be seen under the flurry of punches. "DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT TO HER AGAIN!" Link screamed, walloping one punch at Marth's nose.

 _Crack_.

Link broke it, and the boy of blue howled, clutching at his face as blood streamed through his fingertips.

Zelda Miranda and Link Scottsdale's fantasies crumbled downwards even more.

Parents Night was quite the event.

* * *

 **Turns out this chapter is nowhere close to even being the longest, haha, but to each his own I suppose. Peach is honestly a nasty character, isn't she? I've written the end of Lucina, Samus, Rosalina, Peach, and Marth, so you won't have to see them anymore, it's okay. But wow, I wrote some evil things this chapter, didn't I? It's not the end though, as there is THREE more chapters left in our tale.**

 **SeththeGreat- Not many people answer my questions. You must literally be one of the first, so kudos. And, thank you for the compliment. Pacing is indeed an issue of mine especially in chapters not of equal length, so I'm glad it worked out for you. Even though I can't please all my readers, I try my best to get as much good out of it as possible. And yeah, don't know why I called it a plot point as it isn't, but character development. This chapter is a plot point though, no question. My AU is indeed for that reason, Palutena is a goddess, but in this world is a mortal woman with her own radical issues. And thanks for the encouragement!**

 **Metroid-Killer- Hey, you got a profile picture now! Good for you. And what did I do to Zelda? Nothing. She always seemed like a reserved character who has her happy moments and days. Thanks for the nice words. I think I'm doing an okay job, but amazing might be stretching it.**

 **ExodiusLK- Yes, halcyon is a synonym for yellow, but moreso a gold color. Halcyon is my favorite color to say next to crimson red and amaranthine purple. Perhaps I overuse them. Huh, I've always used swamped for a sense of smell as it douses the whole room with the scent and swamps the nose with a disgusting odor, but I digress. Birthday drabble will be here for Christmas instead if I can get around to not wanting to write plot bunnies and such lol. Would you be alright with that?**

 **Chapter Eight is now safely complete and placed under my belt. Thanks for reading guys, it means the world. At the end, I hope to make a story that shatters each of your hearts. I have a big announcement coming soon, being saved for the end of this story when I decide to share it, but most of you already know so the surprise is gone. Next chapter is #9: Fragility Hurts. It's about time we spend some more attention focusing on the mother and father relationship in the Scottsdale home, don't you agree? Please review guys, as you know I'll love to respond to you and get to know you better. Thanks for everything! I love you all! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	9. Chapter 9: Fragility Hurts

**When you have a chapter like the last one, it is hard to recover, no? Today, with Teach Me How to Cry, we'll somberly etch another entry in this story, with chapter nine called Fragility Hurts. Last chapter was tumultuous, and quite the climax where everything with our 'secondary' characters ended somewhat decently- you know, Peach going insane, Lucina bursting into tears, Marth being a true jerk, Rosalina getting annoyed with the world, and Samus being genuinely confused. Sounds wonderful. These last three chapters will not be long, they are just to quiet and sooth the ending, which is Chapter 11. Enjoy the last 'main' scene with our Scottsdale parents.**

* * *

It was a parent's worst nightmare, the day after something tragic happened and then not knowing how to cope with it. Robin and Snake were somewhat decent at coping, especially when their youngest decided to take a swim and drown. Not as if it mattered to them anymore, for the past could never be changed. It'd sit on their shoulders and breath laboriously all over them, down their backs, against their spines, hot air tickling the skin of the neck... memories that didn't want to leave, didn't leave.

Robin flipped through a magazine, seven different ones splayed out across the table. She sighed restlessly, getting lost amid the midnight letters printed on the pallid white pages. A house sitting on a veranda, warm and inviting while looking over a lake, greeted her blinking eyes. The glistening of the water, its sapphire gleam... the image stirred a longing inside the wife, one that could never be settled lest her heart desire such actions could occur. She'd seek for an answer even if there was none to find, and if that became the case, Robin Scottsdale would gladly make her own. Everyone around her did, why couldn't she? A lone tear dropped to the page, blotting out the picturesque sun high in the sky of the picture.

 _This lofty home will be the hearth for your soul. Come and rest here and let all tiresome worries that plague your dreams be at ease. With confidence, the sangfroid of the natural environment is surely eye opening._

The catalogue description of this home seemed faker than the newest celebrity crush that the teen girls had every week. Robin scoffed. " _This shit is fake. Fake. Like my son. Like my marriage. Like my happiness. This book needs to burn_."

Snake came in through the front door, his coat draped across his shoulders. His beard started to poke through, clouds of oak stubble emerging from his creamy face. His eyes perceived the room silently, full of misunderstanding and confusion that resembled one of a dog without its owner. He wiped his brow, sweating from the body heat cascading through his body. He paused in the doorway, glancing at the mirror that Link had hung up a few days before. In the reflection, Snake wanted to say he saw a man of dignity, a man with mahogany eyes that screamed passion and love and boldness. What was seen back... was not the true dreams many aspired to envision.

Instead of blazing confidence, a cold husk left after eaten corn of the cob. Gray and heartless, shrewd and miscalculating. That was the type of man he saw. Snake walked past the table, ignoring his wife momentarily to recollect his thoughts and be able to tackle his struggles. He threw his coat on the ground, not bothering where it landed. Dust plumed up in a cloud, one of misery and abandonment.

He paused, one hand pressed against the wall, one on the back of a chair against the dining table. Robin stirred, her tears drying up in lonesome isolation. "Did you see them?" she asked.

"Yes." he answered.

"What happened?"

"Talk. Lots of talk," Snake said bitterly, "That's all this damn world does. Speaks gossip all over the world to screw with everyone but themselves. Sick and tired of it. People just want to get their word in, have to say something or the globe will blow up. Asinine, pitiful, much more I can say, but then I'll be calling myself a hypocrite. Do you, R, ever notice that our mouths are always flapping all the time and that we never shut up? Half of our idiotic talk is stupid anyways..."

"All right, S, but what happened?"

He shrugged. "Marth Lowell's okay. His nose is broken. I, for one, approve of Link standing up for himself, but perhaps in this fashion... hmm," Snake stood, and went to the refrigerator. He peered inside, then seized a beer. "His old man said ten million thousand times till I wanted to scream about how such a fine nose that boy had and how it's a pity that _my_ son ruined all of its beakish glory. I told him to suck and eggplant for all I cared."

"An eggplant?" Robin frowned.

"I had to be somewhat respectful."

"Which is a first."

"What kind of-"

"Forget I said anything."

"If you say so," Snake busted off the cap. "But, after all the crowing and crying, Mr. Lowell said at the end of the day, the nose wasn't important. _That_ , sweetheart, made little sense because he went on and on and _on_ about it, and then give it five minutes and now the importance of noses was completely irrelevant. What did matter was principle. Whatever that meant. Do people honestly talk about principle these days?" He swigged the beer, guzzling and coughing on the alcohol.

Robin shuddered, half in disgust, half from the cold. "Honey, please use a glass."

Snake studied the bottle. "At a bar once, before I met you, there was this dude who got hit with one of these things once. It shattered into a million pieces and all that happened to his nose was a scratch. The shards hit everyone else but this man, and a few slashes drew blood. Mixed in with our drinks quite well, should I say so myself," he looked up at his wife, very pleased. "I never thought our boy could pack a wallop like that. Fancy his swinging arm, he's a fighter. Doesn't give up. Like me. I'm proud of him, R, and that's the whole damn truth. Take it or leave it. If you start nagging our great son when we walks in that door, by God I swear I'll-"

She shook her head firmly, standing up from the table. "You're talking a lot. Not much is being said. Remember what you _just_ mentioned to me about gossip. That's all you're doing!"

"He's expelled."

The world came crashing down, a nuclear bomb shattering her heart. "Expelled?"

"E-X-P-E-L-L-E-D. Expelled. Removed from school." Snake enunciated for her, as if she was some dormouse.

Robin stepped towards him ferociously. "They expelled Link because he got into a little fight? Their nerve!"

"They expelled him because of principle! It's what I've been trying to explain to you all along. They, the stupid school, explained it to me as it being something so good and careful when I honestly could give two shits. Lowell's nose doesn't even fit in the picture, that isn't even on the scale. Our boy broke that guy's nose in six places. _Six_. I call that a success. He did it in one punch."

"That's what he has to do? Our son has to beat someone up to get his recognition... what kind of parents are we if that's how we define everything? Snake, are you proud of him? Of Link?"

Snake's cocky smile was gone. "I'm not proud of him," he hissed through gritted teeth. "We spend this entire month working towards a greater perhaps, one that'd make us immortal in this town, and he goes and screws it all up. I'm sick, ashamed... I could kill our son if I had the guilt and rage to do so," the husband of the house stood, with his half full beer bottle, smashing it against the wall. Sickening liquid in a brown sludge slid down the wall, shards of glass flying everywhere. Punctures in the curtains caused pocketed patches of sunlight to peek through, one shard embedding in the middle of one of Link's books. The passion drained from Snake's bones. "If it wasn't for that blasted girl!"

"What about her?" Robin questioned.

"I never minded Link being the way he was, finding oddities to have as comfort as I thought it was because we weren't there for him to count on. Then with this fight, I realized it was more. Our son can't distinguish between different and normal, he gravitates towards the former as if it is a lost puppy. He was moral in my eyes. Not anymore."

"Certainly Link has morals!"

" _Had_ morals," he corrected. "Link isn't a moral child. Him and that girl he fought over-they've been up to things. I learned from Mr. Lowell and Mrs. Eona that the two frequent the bandstand often, mainly on the weekends and days when we let him go."

"What things? And _who_ told you that?"

"The board of commission told me, the ones who made Link's expulsion legitimate. It's that, they said, not Lowell's nose. Link's morals are at stake, and we as parents have to fix them before it is too late. This Miranda girl was supposedly fine and innocent before he came around. Made me downright vomit in my chair. How we could've raised such a vigilante..."

"You think it is true?" Robin couldn't believe her ears.

"What if it is true? Should we care? He's seventeen, at least he is normal in it is what teens do," Snake sighed, leaning down to the table which had his wife bent over in sadness. "R, the last thing you'll do is cry. I ask of you, don't say anything about your father and how perfect he would've been, or what could've happened had he still been on this Earth. I don't need that bullshit right now. Cry about something else, how messed up this situation is going would be much better. That it is, if you have to. Do you need to cry, darling?"

Robin spoke her words very carefully and slow, as if each accentuation mark mattered with upmost importance. "So it was on account of that girl. He's known her for a month. Thirty days. And now our world has collapsed?"

Snake went to the wall, grabbing a paper towel, wiping up the stinking liquor. He bent down, picking up a jagged piece of glass. He tossed it in his hands. "Now, this toss truly showed the real presence of our minds, didn't it? This will be one mess I'll have to lean up."

"I wanted so much for him."

"They sure do use lousy glasses in these bottles. Practically powdered." he rambled.

"For seventeen years. I've planned the very best for him, hoping it'd come true. There are fairytales Link reads about, Cinderella, Snow White... all of these beautiful tales that leave me speechless and wonder if that'd be possible for us to even comprehend. I needed him to get away from all of this, the drama and trouble is unnecessary and drowns the human heart in a confusion not of our own. He was to get the things you and I never had. I also expected so much from him. I demanded things constantly- he was to be perfect. And now, now because of that girl that he has known for a month, Link Scottsdale didn't even bother to think of his mother. What am I if I cause my own to son to forget?" Robin breathed heavily, tears threatening to spill.

From the floor, bent over in one too many awkward positions, Snake frowned. "Now wait a minute, R. It isn't anything personal like that, he-"

"I kept a longing desire that there was some love in his imaginative soul for me. I was lying to myself. Link wasn't known to me, my own son was an enigmatic mystery that I had to unravel till there was nothing left. I've known about his lack of affection towards me. Yours was noticed since the very beginning..."

"Me?" the Scottsdale patriarch repeated in a shocked tone.

"It's all right. Don't beat yourself up over it," Robin looked absentmindedly at the glowing hue of sunshine on the windowpane. "I don't blame you. Either of you," she blinked rapidly. "No one has ever loved me. People say it tirelessly, as if reading a script. Play the words on repeat and leave that record alone for a millennium. No. Not even that. I haven't gotten an ounce of trueness in my life. Except my baby... he loved me. I can't even get to his grave, five steps towards it and fall to my knees. My throat goes raw from screaming, but you never notice! No one has! Our dead son is five stops behind us... and we move in a van drenched in blood." she screamed, releasing a sob and crying with an unprecedented force on the table.

Snake jumped from his perch to wrap his arms around his wife. "I love you, Robin," he felt his own heart break in quadruple places as he spoke. "And so does Link. We couldn't get along without you. Your father, R, he loved you."

Managing to achieve a stilled calm, the low hiccups silenced in her throat and she stared at her husband with a cold interior. "He never loved me. My father didn't love a single damn soul. His pride, his work ethic, his extraneous bullshit set up nothing. I wanted him to love me, I craved his attention and his acknowledgment. It never came. He was always polite to me, my father, Link is always polite to me. When he comes home this afternoon, I won't have to say a word about him disgracing us, because disgrace only matters if people are looking, and no one is looking because we don't count."

"I don't quite understand that."

"It's kind of a relief," Robin admitted. "Snake, it's almost as if you're getting used to a job that's been too hard to do anyways. Take being the president as an instance. Imagine that stress. Things need to be peaceful. Like dying." she said. She was almost exultant with the peace and stillness that flooded her spirit.

"Are you now going to cry?" Snake eyed her.

"No. I don't think I'm going to cry anymore. Never."

Snake felt his feet on solid ground. "Good thing you've got going there. Being real sensible Robin, something I need to learn how to do more often. And you're right, there's no need to be hard on the boy." He turned to go back and clean the sink.

Robin rose as well. "I won't be hard on him. Not ever again. Not about anything. Here, I'll clean the sink up. Get yourself another beer." she whispered.

The two stared at each other briefly, before Snake wrapped his wife into a hug, kissing her with a vicious might one would've called frightening, but in this instance it was comforting.

For once in what seemed like a million years, quiet settled over the Scottsdale home. Even though their fragile frame rattled and chipped, it still stood. In this, a prime lesson was discovered.

Fragility hurts.

* * *

 **Wow. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that this is my favorite chapter of the entire story, and I mean it too. Where my characters come from and how I think like this, is a mystery. But, yep, here's the end of Chapter 9, Fragility Hurts. Snake and Robin have been wrapped up nicely I hope, and that there is good room to roam and grow in. This was a heavy chapter, and I don't think I can say the next one is any better in terms of feeling good, heh. Glad you all have stayed with me so far on this, means the world.**

 **Generala- I understand that you may find this story to be weird, and how it could be this 60's TV show, but is that all about this story you can find? What about this is weird, and what makes it seem so different that it must be said? What did you like? What did you not like? Making blank statements with nothing behind them don't help me. Kind of like plain filler. Elaboration would be much appreciated.**

 **Luca the Wolf- Nope, no disorder, just Peach being a self-centered bitch. Thanks, glad the chapter was... satisfying.**

 **Metroid-Killer- I wouldn't go on a limb and say that this story is the best ever, arguably that can be shot down quite quickly. I'll dare to say this is one of my best that I've ever written on the likes of Capitol's Strike, Storytellers, and Infernum, but besides that, eh. And nope, there's no death. This is the second out of all my true multi-chaptered stories that does not have death. Literally, only two of my stories don't have death. That'd be this and Policies in Detention.**

 **ExodiusLK- #2015. Things escalated quickly. And good to know! Getting worried is not one of my favorite things to do.**

 **Thanks for the reviews guys, keep them coming as we are almost done. So, what was your overall thoughts on this? Were Snake and Robin at a good ending of their developing lines? What was your favorite dialogue line that the two said? This is indeed my favorite one because of the dialogue, and it'd be great to hear your opinion. Next chapter, #10, should be coming out either this Friday or Saturday, as I've got a four day weekend coming up. And guess what that title will be? You guessed it. Teach Me How to Cry. Yeah, I'm hopeless. But, there we are! Thanks for reading, and please review, I'd love to hear what you all thought. See you this weekend! Love you all! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	10. Chapter 10: Teach Me How to Cry

**When you have a chapter that is named after the story, things got awkward. Here we are with Teach Me How to Cry, Chapter 10, ironically called Teach Me How to Cry. Yep, I am so original, aren't I? Last chapter was one of feelings and moments where pieces of daily life separate themselves between the two- you had two broken parents trying to regroup themselves for their first fall and perhaps another one of their fails. Link and Zelda are back, just the two of them. This story is almost done, we have one more chapter to go. On the 26th, I declare Teach Me How to Cry to be finished. Enjoy Chapter 10!**

* * *

Link eyed another bird, this time a cardinal, fly in from the outside and perch itself on the bandstand rigging where the lights usually sat. It sang a cheerful tune, but he didn't bother to sing back. Not necessarily a day for that kind of relationship with nature. Not at a time like this. He brought his attention to his hands, where a whittling knife and a piece of wood was being rudely crafted. At the moment, the shape seemed to take the irregular form of a cloud, with broken shards poked out in awkward spots. The sky was overcast, but somehow the bandstand was baking. He wiped the sweat from his brow, tapping his foot impatiently. She was late.

" _Speaking of the devil_." he thought.

Zelda Miranda came running in, another homemade dress catching in the dirt and grass of the hill. She stumbled, trying to make little noise. Link subconsciously stood, and hugged her. "Am I late? If so, how badly?" she asked, when the embrace was finished.

"It's only going on five." Link soothed.

"I went straight home from school for a little while. My mother asked me to. We had tea, she chatted mostly. My mother told me that she approves of you, but doesn't approve of _you_ , if that makes sense."

"I suppose so."

"She didn't seem herself."

"Was she feeling bad after last night?"

"Yes."

"Is she feeling better now?"

She tensed, fearful and anxious of his response. "No," Zelda shook her head in dissent. "Not even a smidge. She started crying, crying for how another man ruined her life. I tried telling her that you are not a man _for_ her, but for me. She didn't get that. My mother wailed so the whole neighborhood heard us. After how last night went, I thought there could've been some reciprocation room for us, but not even that. I ran away from her. Couldn't take the sorrow. I decided to come up here. How- how about you? Did you go home? I imagine your parents _had_ something to say. They... they always do."

"Yeah, I went home. They didn't say anything though, must've already discussed it before I got home," Link smiled, attempting cheerfulness. The cardinal on the beam chirped, and he turned, pointing up into the rigging. "There's our bird," he greeted. Zelda sat back on the bench facing the bandstand stage. He complied after her. "Did anyone- anyone at school, say anything to you today?"

"Thanks heaven, no. Everyone was silent about it," she responded. Link resumed his whittling. "What are you making?"

"A sort of boat. It's the easiest thing to whittle. I was never really good at it, but before Toon died, he asked me to make one for him that'd he always treasure. He had it in his hands when he drowned. Lost my only true project. This object is the easiest thing to make," he regarded, pointing at the wooden shape. "But, I never got past them in my class at the recreation center where we lived. Then of course, we moved, and I lost the passion and desire. Tried resuming my art this morning. Poetry hasn't been so... weighing on my mind these past few days."

He handed it to her. Zelda's heart fluttered. "Thank you."

Link hesitated for a moment. "Would you like the pen knife?"

"Aren't they dangerous?"

"I guess. Hard to tell. I don't go around stabbing people with them... so, no."

"It's nice of you, but why would I need it?"

"Well, for one thing, it has my initials on it," he pointed, the letters L. S. etched in the wood. "Right there."

"Oh, I see."

"You could also keep it as a- a kind of keepsake. And besides, I'm forever losing penknives. Gee, I must have lost two dozen of them in my life. And, this way, if I give it to you, I'll always know where one will be if I lose another one," Link licked his lips, his palms sweaty. "Some day I'll come back to this town, and I'll get it," he said. Zelda looked up, rigid and shocked. She looked at him, eyes flooded with pleading. "I will, Zel. I give you my word of honor. Listen, we've got nothing to worry about, okay? Lots of people, they are together all the time, and they hate each other. Do we have that? I choose to differ. Being together isn't everything in the world. The penknife has an extra end, you just have to flip the switch near my initials. It's much sharper... probably could kill someone, but I trust you. It's used for sharpening pencils."

"How soon will you be going away?" Zelda asked, looking at him directly in the eyes.

He avoided the question perfectly. "When my dad decides to move on. We get out right away. We don't take much with us. We can pack the entire house in a few hours. My mother usually sobs once or twice because it's time that the old place kicks the bucket. He usually lets me say goodbye to a few people before we go, as he has his own companions to bid farewell. My mother just sits in the lone kitchen and stares at the old magazines, screaming and wailing for this torture to stop. Then my father comes running home, soothes her, and we're on our way again. Like that." he snapped his fingers.

"When, Link?" Zelda pushed the envelope further.

His gaze averted to the floor, highly interested in the pile of wood shavings at the foot of the bench. "Tonight," he answered. Her face looked crestfallen, and she backed up from the bench, leaping on to the stage in a huddled ball. "They knew I was coming here to see you, but they didn't say anything. They didn't even plan to hurry. We can plan things instead, leaving this world behind and finding a new one. You, me, and your mother."

"There isn't anything to plan!" she shrilled from the stage, rocking back and forth. " _Not again! NOT AGAIN!"_ her mind screamed.

Solace for Zelda Miranda was going to have to wait, it'd wait and wait like a longing spring in a dying winter, where Plymouth seemed to be a safe haven, or how time slowed to the speed of an insect in amber. She'd never get her moment, moments of clarity dispersed with snippets of laughter, of romance, of relationships in sunlight, deaths basked in green light. Why those brief memories only stayed awhile before fleeting away into the night, what was the reasoning behind it? She shook and shuddered, yelled and lost her mind, but the world kept spinning on a mad daze. Mad, _mad_ world.

"We can indeed plan!" Link yelled at her.

Zelda snapped from her ball, eyes glazed and down. "I used to formulate ideas and scenarios of my own, you know. That imaginary cliff? One day, I was going to build one. Just stand up at its peak, plan terrible things. I was afraid things such as that would hurt, something I prefer to stay away from. Now... I may design this cliff. And do those terrible, _awful_ ideas. They can't hurt that bad."

He went to her, voice firm and urgent. "Striding up the hill, waiting for your presence, that's all I did was plan. Good things, bad things, and worse things. I'll write to you, email you, call you- whichever mode seems best. I'll do it every day. Nothing will change that. Sometimes, writing letters is better as there is so much more to write than say. You'd like it. I'd like it. There'd be so much to share, so much to go over. You'll enjoy it. At least I haven't vanished completely, right?"

She turned to him. "Do you have to do what they say?"

"For a little while."

"I don't want you to go away. I don't want _anyone_ to go away, anymore." Zelda squeezed her eyes shut.

"After I finish school I can do whatever I want. My mother and father can yell at the top of their lungs to call me back, but I am not going to turn my head and face that direction anymore. First thing, coming back here and getting you. My word is an honorable word when it's given to those I _truly_ care about. My parents will always have a place in my heart, I'll love them for all my days. And you'll be there too. Deeper. Stronger. More forceful than any pulse my parents could ever radiate. Going away isn't bad."

"It's _terrible_." she rasped.

"Nothing is so very terrible," Link comforted her, hugging the distressed girl. "There was once a house down by a lake near where we used to live. The house was all boarded up, deserted, and much smaller than any house we had ever seen before. All the kids said it was haunted, were terrified of it so much some kids would soil their clothes just passing by it. Being honest, I was scared too. Mentions of ghosts being sucked up by vacuum cleaners with a white-haired professor frightened me the most. I was worse off than the rest. It turned out that the man people mentioned was a great older gentleman named E. Gadd, and he became a great friend of mine. My parents decided that we would live in the house. I nearly ran away, at the age of ten. I was _not_ going to stay there especially after all the tales Turns out the house was normal, normal as possible."

"Sounds great..." Zelda began to cry, looking at him. The weeping elongated into a tearing sob, one that shattered sound barriers. She put her head down, letting the tears flow and murk up the ground. Flickers of shadow and sunlight danced between her hands and behind her eyes, droplets of acid and bitterness washing away with a stream of sadness. She felt a tight embrace grasping her sides so tight that breathing was laborious and heavy. Shudders started to spasm, choking sounds vibrated in her throat. She sank down to the steps, hissing and losing all bearings on her emotion. As soon as it came, the crying subsided, and Zelda sat up, wiping at her eyes.

"Some people say men don't like it when their wives cry, but on the same token they are the guys who don't like laughter either. A proper modicum needs to be found in those brains, you cannot have the best of each side. I think if you can do one, the other is easier to perform. Will you write to me, Zel? If you need to, resume crying, but a nod will suffice."

"I'll cry later. Writing can be done." she said with just confidence.

"Okay." he shrugged.

"I'll write to you. I promise."

"And tell me about the play? That'll be a thing I can't miss out," Link offered. "I think it'll be swell. Don't mind about what Marth said, he doesn't understand you like he should. He will apologize, and accept that. Even be his friend if possible, but don't let it drag you down."

"It was nice of you to defend me from him." Zelda gave a slight grin.

"They say his nose is going to bent during the show, as it needs to mend. Too bad I bent it, he just had to get a message through his brain to never say something like that again. When you're doing the play, every time you look at his nose, you can think about me. Another keepsake."

"The school is going to take pictures. Miss Adeline said you. I'll send you some. They might even videotape it!"

"That would be nice. But it's best to know you won't ever stop-writing-or anything." Link detracted from the warmness and comfort of theater.

"Oh no! I won't ever stop! I couldn't, not ever. Because-" she stopped.

"Why?"

"I can't-"

"Because, why?" Link prodded her carefully

"I can't say it."

"Go on and say it!"

"I'll whisper it." Zelda suggested.

"You need to say it. You _need_ to."

"I love you." she blurted, turning beet red in the face.

He grinned. "I love you too."

"Why is that?"

"Because I know you. That's why."

"Say my name... please."

"Zelda." Link complied.

"I like you saying my name."

"Wonder why."

"Because I love you?" Zelda raised an eyebrow, all the memories of just a few minutes before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"Indeed," he grinned cheekily. The two rose, hands linked together. "Let's walk down the hill and into town like we do other evenings. We don't need to talk, as the night will speak enough for both of us. When we get to the corner near school, we part our ways, Just like we always do. Just as if it's only good night until tomorrow."

Zelda nodded, clutching the whittled boat in her hands. "Al-alright."

The two walked in synchronization, steps matching each others as they walked out of the bandstand. The sky was gorgeous, lights and sunlight flickering in blanketed sheets, cascading lines of sharp amaranthine, edgy sunburst, radiant roses, stunning cardinals and violent amaranthines... behind this wallpaper and print of gorgeous colors, the two kissed. Passionate and strong.

Link taught her how to cry. Zelda was whole.

* * *

 **There we are! Wow, Chapter 10: Teach Me How to Cry _of_ Teach Me How to Cry, haha. We've got one chapter, filing up the last three characters of our story- Zelda, Link, and Palutena. Happy and read to write this end, indeed I am. You guys have stayed with me till the end and I appreciate the kind gestures. It's been an hour since I started typing this chapter, and I'm glad to put it on here now. *exhales* Ready!**

 **Metroid-Killer- No one is dying. Do I need to scream it at you? Lol, Peach is not dying. Marth is not kicking the bucket. I want one somber story at least, without having character death be present.**

 **Seth The Great- I'll admit, I was shocked to know that was your favorite line. I figured it would have been one of Snake's, but perhaps a different one was what I was assuming you'd pick, but good reason behind it nonetheless. Yes, thank you for analysis of the chapter. This is one of the more deeper pieces I've done in awhile, and you're appreciation of it buckles my heart tenfold.**

 **ExodiusLK- Thanks for the compliment. And yes, Robin's comment on her father was extremely necessary. But I won't tell you why, that's for your own discovery. ;)**

 **One more step to go. One more. And I'm debating on how I want to end this. I've got an ending alright. And I think you all are expecting it, but I'm not so sure. Chapter 11, Bided Farce, is coming out Monday. Prepare yourselves. Thanks for reading guys, it means so much! Please review, I'd love to have my replies grow and explode for the last chapter, as I'm gonna thank you all at the last AN with #11. What was your favorite line of Zelda's and Link's in this chapter, and why? How do you predict this will end? I'll let your mind settle on that. With that, I bid you all farewell. Love you all!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	11. Chapter 11: Bided Farce

**Chapters like this make me sad that my story is over, we all know its true. So, yes, dear readers, Teach Me How to Cry is finished. We are at the end, with Chapter 11, Bided Farce. It's been an interesting journey, and you guys loved this story so much that it has become one of my favorites to write. I love you all so much because of it. Just, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you... I cannot stress it enough. We have a short closing chapter for our dear friends in this story- Zelda, Link, and Palutena. If I wanted to just drop it there, I would've stopped with #10, but it didn't feel complete to me. This is going to be extremely short, so be prepared for quick endings here. And what is with me always 11 chapter stories? Lol, a lot of my pieces are ending at eleven chapters...**

* * *

Palutena stabbed at the cloth furiously, while giving a somewhat dazed smile that made the two actions extremely metaphorical. Zelda sat in her usual chair, sipping another cup of tea. The bitterness which normally caused her to vomit didn't bother her, no it wasn't the horrid drink. _Link_. How someone could appear so drastically in her life and then be ripped away moments later... it wasn't fair.

Muttering obscenities under her breath such as dealing with how needles are too sharp and that pink is a nasty color to make dresses out of, the head of the Miranda family put down her current work. "You haven't said anything all throughout tea time. It's been going for nearly an hour. Darling, what's troubling you?"

"No-nothing," Zelda replied, lying. She was tossing Link's boat back in forth between her hands, the stern painted a royal amaranthine, followed by a halcyon deck... this ship was her last memory of him. "I am right here, just not necessarily present. There's nothing to worry about."

"It's not that I'm worried, but just noting your behavior," Palutena said. "When you were out, I finally remembered about last night, Zelda. I didn't go away last night. I even promised you that. I wouldn't go away and hide. _And I didn't_. We were in the garden, and it was _you_ that went away from me. I usually bite my tongue, but that double standard stuff needs to stop. You won't want people calling you a hypocrite. Besides, was that Peach Eona girl that important?"

Her daughter seemed flabbergasted, for once her own mother actually paid attention to the world around her. She looked down at her hands, shamed. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry I went away and left you. Don't even know why. Peach just seemed so pressing, as if me talking to her would've saved someone's life. Perhaps it would have been mine, maybe hers. But... that doesn't matter. What does- I won't leave you, ever. Until I grow up and get married."

"Will you leave me then?" the green-haired matriarch asked, her question completely sound. No hurt whatsoever was reflected in her words.

"I won't go far. Least, I hope not," Zelda comforted her. "I'll take care of you."

"Where will you go?" Palutena's next statement seemed fearful.

Being the only teenager in the room, Zelda Miranda knew that her words mattered heavily. She sighed, more to herself than for her mother. "I'll stay right here in town. It's useless getting up and moving only to be called back home, right?"

"Exactly."

"Maybe we could be friends? Isn't that what a parent is to their child after we cross into adulthood?"

"It can be whatever you want it to be, Zel. Besides, I like having friends."

"Yes."

"Zelda, I'm glad I saw your school." Palutena continued to sew.

"You don't have to go back there, _ever,_ unless you want to. I'd like for you to see my show only once, if it's not too much to ask. Sit in the back for all I care, but I need my family there. Could you do that mother?" Zelda tenaciously approached her.

"Depends," the mother mused. "But, thank you nonetheless. Seeing it once is enough, isn't it? Least for a two month span anyways. And since you asked me nicely last time, I'll even wear that emerald dress to church again. Could you tell me something nice? About your day."

"There are many very nice things to consider. Like, this boat."

"Something about school, that's what I'm looking for." Palutena reiterated.

"There can be nice things at school, but nothing really happened to be considered for chitchat," Zelda looked at the floor. "I can tell you a story instead. Would that suit the mood?"

"Sure. Tell me a story."

"Well, there's this play we're reading in English- it may be the next play we do at school."

"Title?"

"Romeo and Juliet." Zelda said.

"Who are they?"

"Two people in Europe... two people who are madly in love with each other. Only, their parents don't want them to see each other, but they do it regardless for their connection is strong and means much more than words telling them they can't do something. As their love grows, they get to be more intimate with each other. Marriage even happens at one point! They are happy together and the world around them is beautiful."

"Sounds wonderful." Palutena nodded.

"Then the story turns dark..."

"Hmm?"

"They get lost from each other. Not necessarily lost, but for a while they think they are. And that they wish to die." Zelda explained. She stopped suddenly, making a connection between her and Link.

"Do- do they die?"

Zelda looked at the windows rather than her mother, not wanting to continue speaking anymore. "They want to die. Both of them seek it, hungrily and desperately that they don't know what to do with each other. It's the easiest thing, die out of love than die in loneliness. The saddest part comes after they're both dead. I think Juliet stabs herself... and Romeo drinks poison. It's awful. Only if they had been much braver, they could have stayed living, and they might have been happy again some day."

"It's very mixed up, isn't it?" Palutena generalized. A low rumble of thunder outside shook the house, stilling an awkward silence over the room.

"It's going to rain..."

"Do you want to go out in it? I won't get mad this time."

Zelda started towards the window, hands ready to lift the pane open and to drown in an onrushing tide of precipitation. She hesitated, half drawn to it, half repulsed. An old conflict grew on her mind. "No... I was thinking... how nice it would be for the flowers rather. I think I'll go to my room and write a letter. I- I have an obligation."

"For your friend, the boy? It'd be sweet," Palutena offered her opinion, smiling warmly. Her words were tender and passionate. "At the end of the letter, you write the word ~ _Love_. It'd make that piece of paper have some genuine meaning to it."

Zelda smiled. "Yes." Her eyes drifted to the doll rack, a particular one seizing her attention. The same one she showed Miss Adeline. It was ugly, but so beautiful at the same time. Leave it to a toy to be able to do that. She picked it up, hardly breathing.

"Are you going to play with it?"

"I'm still too old to play with dolls, mother," she chided. "But... I'll put it on my bed. It will look nice there."

"That's great, sweetie." Palutena said.

Zelda stopped at the doorway to her bedroom. "Mother?"

"Yes?"

"You look very pretty tonight." she replied, before vanishing into the bedroom.

Palutena gave a slight smile, before retuning to sew in perfect contentment.

* * *

Link sighed, another crack of lightning and a dull boom of thunder drawing his face from the window. Snake checked the rearview mirrors before changing lanes. Robin sat in the passenger seat of the Scottsdale car, flipping through one of her son's books. The son of the trio glanced back at the road behind him longingly.

"Dad..." he started.

"What, son?" Snake looked at his son.

"Stop the car."

"I beg your pardon?" that got Robin to turn around, the book closed between her fingers.

"I said stop the car."

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" Snake prodded.

"No. I realized there was something I forgot to do back home."

"Honey, we can't go and do that now. Town is almost half an hour the other way." Robin frowned.

"That's why I asked for you to stop the car," Link continued. "Let me out. I need to go do what I promised I'd do."

Snake let out a long breath. "Does this have to do with that girl?"

"Everything in my life now deals with that _girl_ ," Link replied back harshly. "And Dad, she has a name. It's Zelda."

"Link, you cannot be serious-" Robin spoke up.

Scoffing, the lovesick and bruised boy opened his car door, stepping out into the pouring rain and chaos that was the storm on Highway 83. The car ignition turned off, Snake and Robin hopping out as well. The two parents stared as their son continued on walking the lonesome road, their clothes now soaked from the relentless downpour.

The mother of the three let out a cry of indignation, hopefully letting something out to draw him back. Snake hugged his wife, kissing her on the forehead. "Let him go."

"Why are you letting him leave us?"

Snake brought his gaze back to his horizontal view, seeing that Link had broken into a run. The silly boy was going to go back to town. He just couldn't part from there. The father closed his eyes. "We can't hold him forever, R. One day he has to make his own decisions, and I think that time has come. If we try preventing it, who knows what type of boy we'd have later on."

"We have to go after him. Snake, we cannot just let our son leave."

"We're letting him do that right now."

Robin opened her mouth to rebuttal, his sly remark cutting her off. "Right," she nodded. "Right."

As the distance between the Scottsdale family grew farther and farther apart- Snake and Robin's hearts diminished. Link's heart roared with the pride of a lion. The boy, now a good thousand feet or so away from his parents, grinned. " _Zelda, I'm coming_."

* * *

The sudden knock on the door caused Zelda's eyes to snap awake. She grunted, shuffling over to glance at the electronic clock on her nightstand. The time read 11:55. Who was wanting to enter their home at this hour? She took off the covers, grumbling the whole way from the bedroom to the door. She wrenched it open, ready to give them a piece of her mind when the hug swallowed her whole.

"What?" she squeaked, an embrace with the force of a Mach truck holding her to an unseen person.

"Because I had to make my words mean something." came the stranger's reply.

Zelda stepped back from her companion, eyes wide and her heart burning with a mighty flame. "L-Link?" she whispered.

Link Scottsdale stood in the Miranda home, dripping wet, hair colored black beyond recognition, clothes tattered and mangled from hours of constant bombardment. He spun Zelda into his arms and then kissed her. As he leaned in for the intimate touch, he made one statement to ensure their two fates. "Told you I'd keep my promise..."

Under the sheen hale of the lamp in the hallway, Zelda Miranda and Link Scottsdale kissed.

He kept his promise.

He came back.

He returned. For her.

Zelda sighed, pressing her head against his chest. "Thank you." She was at a loss for words.

For the first moment in her life, Zelda Miranda was content.

* * *

 **And there we are guys. Teach Me How to Cry is successfully finished. Wow, it has been the longest ride, one of sadness, regret, pain, love, friendship, and abstract feelings that cannot be explained through actions nor words. Even though the statistics don't back up my claim, this has been one of more successful stories on this site and I cannot thank you all enough.**

 **I want to say thank you, thank you to Luca the Wolf, TranscendentalNerd, Metroid-Killer, ExodiusLK, Seth the Great, Generala, Icewalker220, LightLitAFlame, Smash King24, FireEmblemNerd0909, Alakazam2192, Mikaela Vermillion Hyakuya, Twilight Joltik, and Writer of Worlds for reviewing.**

 **Another thank you goes to Batch 03, Empire of Joy, EponatheInsaneLoftwing, ExodiusLK, LightLitAFlame, Metroid-Killer, Mikaela Vermillion Hyakuya, StellarLupine, Twilight Joltik, Writer of Worlds, Yata Senpai, Alakzam2192, and bladeweilder05 for all favoring this story.**

 **And yet again, a thank you also will go to Batch 03, C-Jam, Empire of Joy, EponatheInsaneLoftwing, GlamAngel3766, Gothicwings94, ExodiusLK, LittleOfATsundere, Luca the Wolf, Metroid-Killer, Mikaela Vermillion Hyakuya, Seth the Great, TranscendentalNerd, Writer of Worlds, Yata Senpai, Alakazam2192, and bladeweilder05 for all following this story.**

 **All of you guys, no matter what you did, helped me continue this as school and life has been bearing me down hard. If you all review, please, answer these for me.**

 **1) Favorite character, and why? Least favorite character, and why?**

 **2) Favorite chapter and why? Least favorite chapter?**

 **3) Favorite _CHAPTER TITLE_? **

**4) Any other general thoughts about this story.**

 **Your help is all appreciated. And finally, I can tell my not-so-secrets. I'm an awful liar when I said that this would be the last multi-chaptered fic of mine in the Smash fandom till Creationists in July of 2016. Erm, about that... it's not. I'm part of Metroid-Killer's Heartless Contest with my own multi-chaptered story called Pluto Vacation which the first chapter _has_ been posted. I also, but don't know when, will be posting a story called Lord of Envy City, a 30+ chapter story focusing on Luigi and a bitter story bent on revenge. Keep your eyes peeled.**

 **So, yes, with a heavy heart, I say goodbye. Thank you all for everything. I love you guys, and I hope to see on my future stories. Thanks for being such an amazing community. Love you all! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


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